


nothing gold can stay

by timothylawrence



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Crushes, Emotional Manipulation, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, Torture, brief handsome jack/rhys, brief tim/handsome jack, kind of?, maya and tim are besties, tim catches hands from life, tim is oblivious and rhys is awkward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:20:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23202385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timothylawrence/pseuds/timothylawrence
Summary: Maya and Tim take a job escorting two company men and two grifters across Pandora.
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Rhys
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

The masked stranger arrived at Hollow Point before nightfall.

It wasn't an easy place to locate. After hours of traipsing through the Badlands and dodging certain death, they had arrived at the cavernous opening, just before the rakks had begun their descent onto the ground looking for corpses to pick.

Hollow Point is a ramshackle town located in the heart of an immense cave. Because of its enormity, it's hard to tell whether the structure was formed due to a corporation getting its hands on the cave and gutting it for resources, or if it was just was one of those natural phenomena that happens every so often in a century; like a pastel coloured cliffside or a jagged rock that looks like a wang.

Despite not being exposed to the outside of Pandora, Hollow Point's residents are Pandorans through and through. They are unhelpful, unfriendly and eye up the stranger to see if they have any wears that are worth the risk of jumping them and robbing them.

It's not unusual for Pandorans to wear masks; brought into fashion by the psychos and bandits who tried to avoid bounties after they waylaid a Hyperion patrol or attacked one of the lesser important Atlas facilities. The citizens of Pandora are lawless, and there is little control of crime, but sometimes, the people will take justice into their own hands. So, as a rule, it is safer for everyone to simply remain masked.

Or, they wear them to prevent sand blowing in their eyes, as the stranger has learnt after a three-day long trek through the desert.

Hollow Point is the same as every other Pandoran settlement. The stranger witnesses a stabbing after walking through the streets for five minutes and encounters a deranged group of psychos, circling them as if they were prey. After pointedly shooting one in the face, the rest get the message and scatter down the many alleyways.

The stranger attracts a few curious glances. While people oft choose to remain masked, not many of them are faceless.

 _They must either be one ugly son of a bitch, or they have a hell of a secret to hide_ , the blonde man with the nose piercing behind the bar thinks, as he hands the stranger a mug of rakk ale.

The stranger asks if there are any abandoned storage units in Hollow Point. Their gravelly voice stirs something familiar and also unimportant in the blonde man's mind. There's one down Drifter Avenue, the man finds himself telling the stranger. Been uninhabited for years. Used to belong to a man called Hammerlock when he was in the area researching the wildlife that dwelled in the depths of the cavern. If there is a flicker of recognition behind the stranger's mask, the blonde man doesn't see it. Tossing a few coins on the bar as payment, the strangers ups and leaves just like that.

The unit isn't hard to find. Once the stranger has waded through drunken residents stumbling out of various bars, it becomes a lot easier. Drifter Avenue seems an extremely apt name for the alley of half run-down warehouses and buildings. The particular unit the stranger has been directed to is the lesser of all the evils. Surprisingly, it's well-furnished and doesn't bear the same amount of strain time has left on the buildings down the street. In fact, it's almost _so_ pristine that the stranger wonders if Hammerlock left in a rush and just never had the time to reclaim his belongings.

The second floor of the warehouse is equipped to be a living space. Albeit shabby, there is a mattress on the floor which is all the stranger cares about. A few hours after the stranger arrives, there is a clunking sound and a sudden warm blast of heat. So the place is heated. Even better. The stranger doesn't understand how the place hasn't already been preoccupied by bandits or residents who would rather live in an airy warehouse with automatic heating as opposed to their own ramshackle hut.

As the stranger settles down for the night, they stare up at the ceiling with their hands clasped over their stomach. Tomorrow they will look for work; ask around subtly, do some reconnaissance and see exactly what the residents of Hollow Point are like.

There is the train of thought that Hollow Point is the end of the road; the last place left in Pandora for the stranger to run to. In theory, the obscure location of the town should be enough to throw off any pursuers. The stranger doubts the majority of people outside of Hollow Point have even heard of the place, they know they haven't. Stumbling across the cave entrance had been pure luck, coming across the woman who directed them had been even more so.

It will work. Even just for a while- just enough time for the stranger to think of somewhere else.

Somehow, the stranger manages to fall asleep, despite feeling like the cave walls are closing in on them.

***

The second masked stranger arrives a few weeks later.

They are not regarded with as much suspicion as the first. The mask obscuring their countenance is made of some kind of metal; all sharp angles and jagged edges. A subconscious warning sign to ward away unwanted attention. A statement. _Step too close and you'll get stung_.

They've been to Hollow Point before, even if it was years ago. _How long_ _had_ _it been, exactly_? They wonder. All the days melt into one another like an amorphous lump. What felt like last week could have been half a decade ago. What felt like years ago could've been yesterday. It is hard to tell.

Surprisingly, or, not, the place hasn't changed at all. Still shabby, still teetering over the precipice of utter poverty (but where in Pandora isn't?) and still smells faintly like skag shit.

From the mouth of the cave, it could have looked pretty. Almost. The natural, purple hue of the town looked exciting and welcoming. The problem began when you got too close.

Contrary to popular belief, the residents of Hollow Point aren't completely braindead. When they see the second masked stranger arrive, it immediately puts their hackles up. The steady trickle of strangers coming into town is, while not unheard of, out of the ordinary. People don't go out of their way to find a dump like Hollow Point unless there is good reason to. Trouble is brewing. Everyone is aware of it, even if they don't dare speak it aloud.

The Purple Skag is the main hub of activity in Hollow Point. The bar always has occupants, whether it was dawn or nightfall. It's good for reconnaissance, sitting silently in the corner, harmlessly sipping a drink and listening to snippets of conversation from disgruntled citizens. Or subtly leaning forward to hear what the owner of the bar is muttering into his earpiece. From what the stranger had gathered from their last visit, the owner of The Skag was in some sort of syndicate. It wasn't wise to pry any further. The last thing they needed was yet another target on their back.

The stranger strides in with confidence, earning a few glances from the inhabitants. It isn't late in the night, so the place is yet to reach full capacity. When it does, the stranger will be long gone.

They recognise the man with the nose piercing. Quite a prolific figure in Hollow Point by all accounts, if only the stranger knew exactly what he _did_.

His voice is sharp when he asks what he can get them. Unease flickers in his blue eyes. Another stranger in the premises doesn't bode well.

"A drink would be a good start," the stranger says, in an attempt to quell any qualms the man may have about their presence. _You catch more flies with honey_ \- or so the old saying states. "Give me the strongest of whatever you have."

Quirking an eyebrow, the blonde man turns around and begins pouring something out of tap. The stranger patiently waits, eyes flickering behind their mask, scanning the surroundings. They don't appear to be in immediate danger. A fraction of the tension leaves their shoulders.

"You know," Blondie says, handing them the drink. "You're the fourth outsider to come to Hollow Point in a few weeks. The third this week, in fact."

"Really?" The stranger feigns surprise. "Who are the other three?"

"No idea about the first one. But the other two were a pair of bounty hunters looking for-" He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale of breath.

Bingo.

"There's a lot of bounties in Hollow Point?"

"A few..." Blondie crosses his arms, probably in an attempt to look threatening. Poor fool. "There's a noticeboard outside if you want to take a look. But I have to warn you," he leans forward, narrowing his eyes, "We don't take very kindly to strangers meddling in our business."

They down the rest of their drink. "I'll bear that in mind." Without another word, the stranger leaves.

Outside, the noticeboard is easy to locate. About a hundred yards away from the entrance of The Skag, which is convenient. Judging by the looks of the patrons in the bar, the stranger doesn't particularly fancy hanging around any secluded alleyways. The citizens of Pandora are as unpredictable as they are violent.

Immediately, the stranger spots the poster. Not the one they are looking for, but a familiar one. For a few seconds, the stranger allows themselves time to read over it, like they don't do the same thing whenever they see the same poster in a different town. It appears this wanted poster is plastered across every settlement in Pandora. It shouldn't come as a surprise. Yet, there is something slightly off-putting about it. Perhaps the stranger had wrongly assumed they would be safe in Hollow Point, so far away from the rest of Pandora that they couldn't possibly know about the person emblazoned on the poster. But, this is Pandora, all the same. Of course they know. By now, it has become a household name.

The actual poster the stranger came to find has been ripped down, no doubt by the aforementioned bounty hunters. With a sigh, the stranger rips down the other wanted poster and balls it up in their fist. Instead of tossing it away carelessly where it could be recovered, they shove it into the depths of their pocket until they can think of a better way to dispose of it.

No matter how many posters they pull down, another one always takes its place. Whoever is calling for the bounty is relentless. Even after all this time.

Even though it has been a few years since the stranger last stepped foot in Hollow Point, they remember the way to Drifter Avenue. It's about the only safe spot for travellers to find refuge. It's regarded as too far away for the bandits, and if they did happen across it, it would most likely be empty because nobody stays in Hollow Point.

Until recently.

The storage unit had once belonged to somebody the stranger knew. That was a different lifetime ago. When traipsing around Pandora wouldn't result in them getting moonshotted or hunted by corporate assassins.

A feeling of solace washes over the stranger as they force open the front door, wafting the dust away from their face. As they step across the threshold, the stranger frowns. Strange. The heating is on.

Hairs stand up on the back of their neck as they take a few cautious steps forward, waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows. Despite the uneasiness swirling in the stranger's stomach, the place is silent and seemingly empty. Unless the bounty hunters are here, though Blondie surely would have mentioned it...? Maybe not. He seemed stringent with what meagre information he had accidentally given away.

Mounting the steps, the stranger's hand curls around the pistol on their hip, hidden by the cloak. Had the owner of The Skag spotted it, there would undoubtedly have been trouble. There's a strict no guns policy in the bar, amplified by numerous badly-written signs stuck all over the interior.

A creaking floorboard causes the stranger to stop in their tracks, holding their breath. Had they caused that noise or had it come from above? It is impossible to tell and pointless to dwell over. It had happened. All the stranger can do is remain alert until they're certain the place has been cleaned out.

In the dark, it's hard to spot the signs that someone has been living here. The stranger remembers what it looked like when they last left, and it certainly wasn't like this.

Someone has been living here. Recently, too. The stranger's hands tighten around the pistol, slowly pulling it out of its holster.

This time, there is an unmistakeable creak from the shadows. There is a click of another pistol, and the figure hiding in the shadows steps out into the chink of floodlight filtering through the window. The two masked strangers stand with their guns aimed at one another, their fingers itching to squeeze the trigger.

"What are you doing here?" The first stranger asks, voice low and scratchy.

"I could ask you the same thing," the newcomer snarls. They then realise that the person they are faced with doesn't have a face. No, they do. It is just hidden behind the faceless mask stuck to their visage. It's extremely unnerving to be stared down by the blank canvas of a face.

The faceless stranger's eyes flicker down to the Maliwan gun pointed at their chest. The hand that holds it is attached to an arm which glows faintly in the dark. A pair of icy blue eyes meet their own, and there's a jolt in the cathedral of the faceless stranger's chest.

They would recognise those eyes anywhere.

The gun falls to the floor with a clatter.

" _Maya_?"

The stranger freezes, grip tightening on the gun. The faceless stranger slowly holds their hands up in defeat, taking a steady step back as not to seem threatening.

"It's me. Tim."

It takes a few seconds, but once the realisation has sunken in, Maya lowers her gun and tugs off the metal mask. She looks just like how Tim remembered her, perhaps more weathered than when they first met- that was to be expected. After everything she has gone through since the last time they met on Elpis...

Tim refrains from unmasking himself. She already knows what dwells beneath it.

Without warning, Maya lunges towards him. There's a split-second where Tim steels himself for some sort of impact; a punch in the face, a slug in the gut, a knee in the balls, he's ready for it. Deserves it.

He's surprised when the woman barrels him into a tight hug, clutching the back of his jacket as if her life depended on it.

Tim awkwardly unfolds his arms to reciprocate the embrace, patting in between her shoulders awkwardly. It's been so long since he had physical contact with another human he's unsure of what the code of conduct is.

When she lets go of him, her icy eyes study his mask. "I see why you're faceless now. I was worried..."

She doesn't need to continue. Tim knows where this is going.

"I've been rogue for three years," he informs her. Something tugs in the back of his brain. Surely that isn't right. It can't be. Has he really spent that long being a mercenary, wandering the Pandoran wastelands?

"I'm..." The Siren hesitates, as if carefully considering her next words, treating it with the same consideration if one were trying to defuse a ticking time bomb. "I'm glad you got away."

Even though she cannot see it, he reciprocates with a weak smile.

"Why are you here?" He makes a gesturing motion with his arm.

"I've got business here," she replies with a shrug. Evasive as ever. "But there's these two asshats that are making my life more difficult than it needs be. It's a contract... kind of. A favour." Looking startled, Maya snaps her mouth shut and turns her attention elsewhere.

Typical Maya. She always did- _does_ \- this. Just when she is beginning to open up, she shies away in fear she has given too much of herself away. Tim manages to look past this, he's just glad to see her alive. Obviously he knew she had survived, after all... that. But her whereabouts had been a mystery. Amongst himself and other vault hunters across Pandora.

Tim had had his fair share of run ins with vault hunters, it was hard not to when they also lived nomadically and frequented most of the places he did. He remembers one of of them in particular- a young girl with soot smeared across her nose and her fiery hair portioned into childlike pigtails- her age is what struck Tim the most. Not the robotic arm or the floating mech. She was probably the same age Maya had been when she began vault hunting too. What was even stranger was that she seemed to know Maya. After downing a few drinks, she lamented her friend's absence and wondered aloud where she had ended up.

 _Away_ , Tim remembers thinking to himself. _If she has any sense she'll have taken the money from the vault and scrammed_. It wasn't safe for her on Pandora anymore, not with the influx of wanted posters and the bounty that steadily increased every day they couldn't recover her.

Tim never thought he would see her again. Seeing her stood two feet away from him, tattoos glowing a phosphorous blue in the dark, it doesn't seem real. He can't count how many times he envisioned them meeting again, even from as early as Maya leaving Elpis and betraying Jack at the last minute with Lilith's help. Unlike his boss, Tim couldn't find it in himself be angry with her. She hated Jack. Unlike Tim, she had the freedom to do something about it. The thirty-year waiver Tim had signed his life away to hung over his head the whole time, unable to take matters into his own hands until Jack finally pushed him too far.

"What about you?" Maya manages to look at him again. "How come you ended up in Hollow Point of all places?"

Tim shrugs, now his turn to sound vague. To admit Hollow Point is the end of the line would make him sound pathetic. He doesn't want Maya to think of him as the same spineless body double she met eight years ago.

"I need work," he says. "Mostly mercenary, but these days I'm not so picky."

Finally, Maya pulls her hood back and long, blue hair falls down her back. She puts her hand on her hips and cocks it. "I gotta say, when I first met you all those years ago I never thought you'd be a mercenary."

"You gotta do what you have to to survive out here." He means to sound playful, though comes across the exact opposite.

She gives him a wry smile. "Either way, I'm glad you're here."

Tim simply nods, unable to articulate the right words himself. Hopefully she knows what he means.

***

Maya does some reconnaissance that night, only for her efforts to come up fruitless. It's a relief, in a way, meaning she gets to sleep for the first time in what feels like weeks. She hasn't felt safe enough to doze off in a while, especially not traipsing through the exposed badlands. All it would take is one Hyperion employee to track her down and send moonshots. But, by the looks of it, they already had. Maya hadn't been able to rationalise where they came from. Perhaps the steaming rakk hive corpse she passed had something to do with it.

She returns back to the warehouse exhausted, limbs heavy with fatigue. She had been roped into what seemed like an endless conversation with Scooter when he had spotted her skulking around the garage (a complete failure on Maya's part, as Scooter was the last person she wanted to see. She only has herself to blame for tripping over the exhaust and drawing his attention) but his information had been useful. The woman Maya was after hadn't passed through Hollow Point as of late. Scooter would know, considering his garage is right on the main street and he sees everything.

After Scooter's, she checked Felix's place. He'd given her the coordinates in the ECHO message he sent, that too was empty. No sign of forced entry, no sign of anyone having poked around. The targets hadn't arrived yet. This was a relief. Maya hadn't missed them, as she'd feared.

She returns to the warehouse close to midnight, practically having to drag her weary bones up the stairs. Tim is still there, sat on the threadbare sofa, nose buried in his ECHOTab. Maya wonders if he's reading one of the trashy romance novels he was once so fond of. Probably not. Maya can't imagine Tim getting enjoyment from such things after so long in Jack's servitude.

He senses Maya clamming up on him without even having to speak. It was foolish of him to think that things between them could return to even a semblance of normality. He tries not to take it too personally. If he recalls correctly, Maya is like this with everyone. Cold and closed-off until you penetrated the layer of frost, which revealed a good, if not slightly shrivelled, heart.

Tim longs to know what kind of favour brought her halfway across Pandora to Hollow Point. Whoever she's doing it for must have had one hell of a hold over her.

He thinks about asking her whether she knows that the place is teeming with bounty hunters and bandits- Tim has had his fair share of them this week- then decides against it. Whatever fragile peace that have reconciled today doesn't need to be broken.

"I'll keep watch," Maya says, sounding tired. Even after everything, there are still some parts of her that haven't changed. Tim remember spending many a night on Elpis squabbling with her as to whose turn it was to keep watch. More often than not Tim would win because Maya would pass out from exhaustion. One time she didn't sleep for three days straight and slept for twenty hours afterwards. Tim told her he didn't wake her up because the weather was too bad to venture out in. When, really, he couldn't force himself to wake her up.

She is no longer the sullen teenager he met under Jack's employment all that time ago. Nothing has changed, but at the same time everything has.

"Get some rest," he orders her. "You look dead on your feet."

She looks like she's going to protest. Her mouth is open, like she has words on the tip of her tongue. Then, with a sigh of resignation, she collapses onto the mattress without even uttering another protest.

Tim finds himself almost smiling under his mask. Clearly some things have changed.

***

She wakes in the night, anyway. Drenched in sweat and heart leaping in her throat. She blinks a few times, trying to get the image of Roland out of her mind. The contortion of his face when the bullet made impact in his chest, the spray of blood that followed and threatened to choke her, the wet slap he made as he fell dead against the tiled floor. Angel's corpse was only a mere few meters away from him.

Maya rubs her eyes harshly with the heels of her hand. It's 5:50am, she's slept for long enough.

Swinging her legs off the mattress, she allows herself a few moments to come around, to blink the stars out of her eyes and the fuzziness in her brain. Even though the nightmare was sharp enough to cut glass, her mind still feels foggy. There is always the split second when she wakes up that she believes what she had dreamt was real, and it's in this moment that her brain becomes the most confused.

Tim has dropped asleep on the lumpy couch, but Maya doesn't wake him. If his life has been anything like hers since he escaped Hyperion, she won't begrudge him a decent nights sleep.

Bending down, she rummages in her bag for a nutribar. She grimaces when she realises it's dark chocolate- the worst flavour of all. Still, in her current state, she can't afford to be picky.

Maya is rich, yes. She has enough money to leave Pandora, if she so desired. But with Hyperion closely observing every passage off of the planet, it's an impossible task. There is no point dwelling on it or trying to devise a plan. While Maya had managed to best Jack, she can't take on his whole company alone.

Besides, Maya has unfinished business here.

(There is also the matter that she has nowhere else to turn to. No home planet, no family, no refuge. But that isn't something she lets herself think about.)

As she chews through her nutribar, Maya wonders what twist of fate led her to meet Timothy Lawrence again after seven years. She had no idea he had gone rogue. Truthfully, there had been a terrible part of her that feared it was Tim she had killed in the Vault of the Warrior. It would make sense for Jack to send his dopplegänger to do his dirty work, unwilling to risk his life for the cause. Then Maya remembered how much Jack wanted the glory of being the one to open the vault, and soon eschewed any thoughts she had accidentally taken out his body double. In the back of her mind, Maya always thought about him- always hoped for his safety. She should've realised he wasn't involved with Hyperion anymore when Jack suddenly didn't make an appearance after she was supposed to have killed him.

Tim wakes up around 6:30. At first, he seems confused about Maya's presence and then the sleepy fog clears and he remembers the previous night with clarity.

"You should've woken me," he grumbles, accepting the bar Maya hands him.

"But you look so cute when you're sleeping," she pouts. He scoffs and she snickers.

The Siren tells him she's going to spend the day scouting out Hollow Point, trying to locate the two bounty hunters who have been plaguing her ever since New Haven. There had been part of her that was tempted to kill them. But then she'd lost their tracks for two whole days. Waiting for the sandstorm to pass was agonising. While they'd tried to get one over on her by reaching Hollow Point first, the target isn't even here. Maya wonders if there is some benevolent force looking out for her.

Wherever the bounty hunters are, they're doing an excellent job of laying low. As Maya scours through Hollow Point, there is hide nor hair of them. But she isn't fooled. She knows they're here biding their time. They must be hiding in the shadows, aware of her presence cutting through the small town.

Even though they work for Vallory, they must have _some_ brains.

Maya isn't personally acquainted with the bandit queen, but has heard enough about her and her cronies from her travels through the borderlands. Her name strikes fear in the hearts of the people, who must always keep one eye open for her. Her lackeys are lurking everywhere; and before you know it, you're getting pulled from your bed in the middle of the night and your head is strung up on a flagpole.

Maya always wondered whether Vallory would try and hunt her down- other bandit leaders have. Whether it's for the bounty or her muscle, she doesn't know. She kills the bandits before they ever get chance to tell her their true intent.

She may be lost, disillusioned and apathetic- but she will _never_ stoop that low. She's a Siren, a legend; she will never become a bandit. Jack might as well have killed her.

Eventually, she meanders over to Scooter's garage. She only plans on peeking her head around the door, still too exhausted from their last conversation to engage him in another one.

However, she stops short when she sees the battered caravan taking up the majority of the garage. The back end is missing completely, like something has taken a bite out of it. The metal is twisted and scorched, the front windows broken and the wheels hanging off their metal joints. A scent of burning gasoline curls itself under Maya's nostrils.

Her targets are here

***

Fiona bursts out of the front door, the acrid stench of Finch's burning skin almost suffocating her. 

She sets off running down the street, only a few feet behind Sasha who has her trusty Maliwan SMG close against her chest. She hadn't wasted any bullets on Kroger, choosing to simply hit him around the face with the scorching frying pan. Even though Felix betrayed them in the end, Fiona cannot deny he hasn't raised them well.

"Fiona!" Sasha yells, "Over here!"

They duck behind a pair of crates, momentarily catching their breath. Fiona's heart threatens to explode out of her chest; beating hard with a mixture of terror and exertion. She'd have thought with after everything they've been through the past couple of days this wouldn't faze her. But the strange, blue eyes she saw glowing in the alley were enough to throw her off completely.

Just when she thinks they are in the clear, Fiona hears Sasha firing off another round of bullets. Daring to peek around the crate, she sees the women encased in a strange purple shield that the bullets ping off uselessly. Sasha emits of a grunt of frustration, fumbling to reload the barrel.

Fiona grabs her sisters arm and yanks her down the alley, much to her protest. It's pointless wasting her ammo when clearly their pursuer has an effective shield, but with the amount of firepower Sasha used against it, it probably won't be able to hold up much longer.

They fork off down the alley next to The Purple Skag, Fiona stumbling slightly in her heels. Damn it, she knew she should've had a change of clothes while she had the opportunity. Before the bounty hunters had burst in and almost captured them.

She sees the truck barrelling towards them before Sasha does. A scream of warning is on the tip of her tongue when her sister slams into the bonnet, though fortunately it wasn't going fast in the first place. Fiona doesn't dare look over her shoulder, terrified as to whether their pursuer has caught up to them in delay. But Sasha stumbles away and Fiona feels relief swelling in her chest like a bubble.

From behind her, she hears the splintering of wood and a scream. Without thinking, Fiona begins to scale a ladder near to where the truck has screeched to a halt. Just as the furious driver is coming out, Fiona is hauling herself onto the corrugated roof of the building. She figures she'll be safe up here, also being able to keep an eye on Sasha from the ground- able to direct her.

Fiona tries her best not to look down. She's never been fond of heights.

Round the corner, Sasha crashes into a stack of motorbikes that have been abandoned haphazardly in the middle of the alley. She swears loudly, staggering to her feet and coincidentally attracting the attention of a nearby group of psychos. Whether the bikes belong to them is hard to say.

"Shoot them!" Shouts Fiona from the rooftop, as they begin to round on her sister with their barbaric, jagged machetes. She wishes she could be of use, but her handgun only has two more bullets and she is loathed to waste them on some lowly psychos.

Sasha handles herself- was there any doubt she wouldn't be able to? The first bullet hits the nearest psycho straight in the chest, causing him to collapse in a heap. The next bullet cracks through one of the gas masks and splinters through the psycho's skull. He screams in pain, cradling his mutilated face and stumbling around blindly.

Sasha manages to elbow one out of the way and hears something crack on contact. Fiona wishes there was something she could do to help, but she has to keep running otherwise their pursuer is going to catch up to her.

Fiona skids to a halt when she hits a dead end, the gap between the next building is far too large to leap across. The only way forward is to transverse over a plank of wood which leads to the rooftops across the street. Somewhere in the back of her mind she hears a roaring, which is drowned out by the own roaring in her ears. It's at least a twenty foot drop, if she were to put even a toe out of line she would undoubtedly fall to her demise.

What other choice does she have?

On bated breath, she puts the first tentative foot forward, testing her weight. It doesn't snap immediately which she takes as a good sign. Fiona begins to cautiously shuffle along the plan, very aware of the din underneath her but too terrified to actually look down.

Just as she crosses the halfway point, something large and purple shoots towards her. In a split second, it impacts with the wood and splinters it cleanly in half. Fiona feels herself falling.

Her brain kicks in last minute. Flinging herself forward, she manages to catch her upper half on the corrugated roof. The brunt winds her, leaving her gasping for air as she hears her pursuers footsteps echoing off the tin roofs.

Hauling herself up, Fiona staggers slightly as she gets to her feet and sets off at a sprint again. Hopefully, with no way to get across the roofs, the pursuer will give up. Yet something in the back of Fiona's mind knows they won't give up that easily.

Below, a motorbike roars loudly and it takes Fiona a second to realise her sister is the one driving it. She must've hijacked it from the psychos.

"Jump on!" She shouts over the engine.

Fiona is just about to ask her if she's lost her mind when feels the rooftop judder beneath her. Sasha shouts something she can't make out, but she has a good idea what she's saying- someone is behind her.

Fiona teeters on the edge of the roof, waiting for Sasha to pull the bike closer. When it is within distance, Fiona jumps without second thought. Her leap of faith will only end one of two ways, so there isn't much to think about in the few seconds she is suspended in air. It feels like time has slowed completely.

And then she lands heavily behind her sister on the bike, a jolt of pain shooting up her spine.

"I made it!" She exclaims, breathlessly. "I actually made it!"

"You sound surprised." Although she cannot see her sister's expression, Fiona can tell she is smirking.

The euphoria of victory does not last long, because the street winds them down into a dead end. Stood at the end is their pursuer, blue eyes gleaming underneath their cowl.

Sasha jerks the handle bars instinctively, and the motorbike quickly loses momentum. It begins to topple over, bucking both of the girls off violently. Sasha gets thrown in one direction and Fiona rolls in another. She hits her head hard enough to see stars.

Their pursuer is a woman, strangely enough. She gets close enough for the sisters to glimpse underneath the cowl, and in the dark, Fiona can just about make out her features. Penetrating eyes, long nose, pretty lips. The rest of her would be pretty too if she weren't armed with a menacing scowl.

"This ends _now_."

The sisters slowly back against the wall, hands behind their backs in fear. Sasha long since ran out of ammo, leaving both of them defenceless. For a moment, Fiona wonders if this is it. If this is the end of the line. So far she has survived everything Pandora has thrown at her- and _more_ \- but here she is, about to die in some scummy back alley in Hollow Point to a bounty hunter.

"Fiona, Felix's grenades!" Sasha hisses.

Fiona's eyes snap open, no longer embracing death. She reaches around in her back pocket and fumbles for the handmade grenades she found scattered around Felix's house. He must've left them for a reason. Now seems as good a time as any.

She pulls her arm back and lobs it at the foot of the advancing woman. It bounces a few times and then explodes on impact. It's only a flash bang grenade- Felix wasn't a fan of violence so he would've never made something that would obliterate someone into pieces- but it does an adequate enough job of disorientating the pursuer. She spins around a few times, stumbling backwards as she tries to waft away the smoke with her arms.

In this moment, the sisters scramble to their feet and run.

***

Scooter's garage is on the other side of the Hollow Point, yet they run without looking back. Fiona thinks they have finally shaken the bounty hunter off. She lets herself slow a little, panting heavily as she tries to regain some of her breath. She's only allowed a few seconds of respite before Sasha is grabbing her wrists and hauling her through the alleys.

"I think-" Fiona gasps, in between breaths. "We lost her."

Sasha's face is set in grim determination, but her sister knows she's heard her.

The younger girl is about to reply when something wizzes past her head, almost decapitating her. With a gasp, she lurches forward and begins sprinting even harder, ignoring the agonising burn in her lungs.

Internally, Fiona curses. She's having a really shitty day.

Scooter's garage finally comes into view, after what feels like an eternity of running. Fiona is acutely aware of the presence behind them, but if they can make it to Scooter's and pile in the caravan they can leave the bounty hunter behind in the dust. She will never be able to find them again.

This is the only thought that stops Fiona from collapsing. Her legs are on fire, her tendons have turned to mush and it's hard to even breathe.

To both of their horrors, they discover Scooter's door is shut firmly. They collapse onto their knees, furiously tugging the heavy, metal door in an attempt to force it open. Fiona grunts in exertion, putting all her weight behind it. Despite feeling lightheaded and fatigued, the adrenaline buzzing in her blood is what keeps her pushing. The fight or flight instinct tucked away in her lizard brain is currently screaming at her to take flight.

With a shudder, they manage to pry it open just enough for them to roll under. Sasha goes first. Fiona shepherds her sister in. Just as the woman is only a few feet away, Fiona rolls under too and without anything to support it, the door slams shut. The crash of metal is so loud it echoes throughout the garage, causing Scooter to whirl around in shock. He's stood with another woman whom neither of the sisters recognise.

"You two in a hurry?" The blonde woman asks, an unfamiliar twang in her voice.

"You been snortin' redrocks?" Scooter asks. "Why the heck y'all rollin' 'round on the dirt for?"

"We're being chased!" Fiona gasps, still knelt on all fours. She doesn't feel strong enough to get to her feet yet. Beside her, Sasha wobbles unsteadily to hers. "We need to leave. Now!"

"There's a bounty hunter onto us," explains Sasha, helping to haul her sister up.

"What?" The blonde woman asks. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Fiona snaps. A headache is starting to blossom in between her eyes. "Where are the keys?"

The sound of the garage door opening causes Fiona's blood to run cold. As Scooter fumbles in his pockets for the caravan keys, the door continues to slide open. Sasha is frozen beside her, mouth hanging open in disbelief. They know Scooter saved their asses once before, but would he be able to fight off a bounty hunter for them?

"Oh my god!" The blonde woman gasps. " _Maya_?"

" _Janey_?"

The sisters watch in disbelief as the blonde woman- Janey- bounds over to the bounty hunter and embraces her in a hug. They exchange glances. Fiona swallows roughly. Was Janey a bounty hunter the whole time? Is that why she was talking to Scooter?

They are in so much shit.

"It's been years!" Janey laughs, lightly. "I can't believe it! Athena said you'd been in touch but- we just assumed you'd left Pandora for good."

The bounty hunter has stepped into the light has revealed herself; she has long blue hair, a sharp but pretty face, and is swallowed by a terrifying, chilling aura. Fiona takes a subtle step back. Sasha shuffles towards the caravan.

"That's- that's who tried to kill us!" Fiona points an accusatory finger. "She chased us all the way through Hollow Point!"

"What?" Frowns Janey. She glances at the bounty hunter. "Not Maya. You're not a bounty hunter, right?"

"Right." Maya fixes Fiona with such an icy glare that Fiona reckons it will haunt her dreams for the rest of her days. "They must've gotten the wrong person."

Fiona hesitates, licking her dry lips. "Actually... I think you're right. It-it must've been someone else."

"Yeah," Sasha chimes in. "We definitely got the wrong person, Fi."

"Tell me about it," Janey makes a noise of disgust. "Way too many shady people are coming into Hollow Point at the minute. Only the other day-"

She never gets to finish her sentence, because somebody else staggers into the garage. They all whirl around, Maya's hand reaches for the gun on her hip. She wonders if it's Finch and Kroger having finally caught up with them; having slipped Tim's grasp.

Fiona reels backwards slightly when she sees a man without a face coming towards them. He clutches his side, dark blood leaking onto his fingers.

"The son of a bitch knifed me," he grunts. "They got away."

Maya hurries to his side, propping him up. It would be humorous in any other situation; the man completely towers over her, in both height and width. She looks too small to be able to support him, but Fiona knows there is something unearthly and powerful about this woman- she just can't put her finger on it.

"Janey, do you remember Lawrence?"

"Of course!" Janey says, brightly. "Good to see ya again!"

"You too, Springs." The man- Lawrence's- voice sounds strained. Maya leads him over to a chair and helps him down. He hisses in pain when his body bends in the wrong way, even more blood spurting out of the wound.

Janey rolls him an Anshin which he takes with a muttered thanks. The sisters watch in mild horror as they see him plunge the needle right into the laceration, watching the skin immediately begin to heal itself up. Lawrence emits a sigh of relief, tilting his head back.

"Scooter, we should really get going," Fiona reiterates, holding her hand out for the caravan keys. Payment isn't an issue, not when they've struck a deal for Fiona to become his sponsor. What he doesn't realise is that Fiona has no intention of following through with her side of the deal, she'll never see him again in her life if she's lucky.

Her and Sasha climb into the caravan, Sasha taking the driver's seat instinctually. Fiona leans over the control panel, carefully watching Maya; who also appears to be glaring at her.

Before they leave, Maya has some parting words.

"Be careful," she warns. "Pandora seems a lot smaller when there are people chasing you."

Fiona says nothing, ignoring the chill creeping up her spine.

***

It was not unfamiliar for Maya to have to patch Tim up after being on the field. Countless times on Elpis did she kneel beside him as he haemorrhaged blood, staunching the flow and injecting him with the appropriate amount of Anshins. Were there some times when Tim found himself enjoying being injured, because he knew the outcome would be having Maya fuss over him for the remainder of the day? Perhaps. Would he ever admit this? Hell no. It's going to the grave with him.

The feeling of Maya's spidery fingers brushing against his wound is enough to elicit a hook-like feeling in his chest. He closes his eyes and tries his best to suppress it.

"It's healed pretty well," she informs him, standing upright again. "Do you know what happened to them after they... you know."

"They left," Tim deadpans. "They didn't tell me where they were going, funnily enough."

His snark may have earned him another stab in the abdomen had it been to anyone else, but Maya just sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She chews her lip thoughtfully, eyes glazed over as she formulates some kind of plan. Clearly, she is wondering about her next move. Wondering where the sisters will be headed. 

"Maya, are you actually a bounty hunter?" Janey asks, seeming astonished. "I thought..." Her voice trails off, but Tim knows what she's thinking. _I thought that was beneath you_.

Tim would like some answers too.

"No," the Siren replies. "I'm not. This is just... It's complicated. Someone asked me to help them, so I am."

Help them? What could Maya possibly help them with?

"I overheard 'em saying they were headed to Old Haven," Scooter suddenly pipes up. "That's why they were in a hurry to get the caravan fixed."

Maya whirls around. "Are you certain?" Her voice is low. Urgent.

Scooter takes off his cap and scratches the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

She nods slowly, still in thought. "Right. Okay. I just need to get to Old Haven. The journey takes, what, a couple of days?"

"Longer on foot," Tim interjects. "A week, if you're lucky. That's if you don't get eaten by something first."

"I don't have a car." Her voice sounds strained.

Her eyes scan the garage, as if hoping something will appear out of midair. Then, she freezes when she spots the two motorbikes tucked away in the corner.

"What about a bike?"

"They're mine," says Janey. "But I'll let you borrow one. I did 'em up a few years ago but I never really had use for 'em. Consider it yours."

Gratefulness flashes across Maya's features. "You're a lifesaver, Janey. I'll pay you back, I promise."

Janey waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. Just come see me and Athena for dinner sometime. Then we're even."

"Wait," Tim stands up, ignoring the dull throb in his side. While it may have healed and ceased to bleed, it still stings like a bitch. "Are you going alone?"

Maya gives her head a slight shake. "I've been on my own for the past year. It's safer that way."

"Yeah, but this is dangerous, don't you think?" If it were not for the mask, Tim would be widening his eyes for emphasis. He does so instinctually. "I could come along for extra muscle."

"I thought you had work here?"

Tim smiles wryly. "Plans change. I'm coming with you."

For a moment, he wonders if she's going to protest. Undoubtedly, it would hurt- worse than the knife jammed into his side- but he would have to respect her decision ultimately. The thought of Maya traipsing around the badlands alone is enough to turn his stomach. It doesn't matter if Tim dies, but Maya can't. Not when there's people out there who care for her; like Janey and Athena, who are waiting for the day she decides to turn up at their door, all her other vault hunting buddies, and the people of Pandora who have turned to her as a beacon of hope.

"Fine. But I hope your driving has improved."

"I've only totalled three rovers in my time here. You don't have to worry about me."

Maya nods, turning to Scooter in a business-like manner. "Can you get the bikes ready for us? We need to get our stuff." Scooter salutes obediently, scurrying across the garage to follow her request.

They head back to the warehouse to gather their belongings in silence. Instead of feeling dread at whatever may lay ahead, Tim feels exhilarated. Giddy, even. It has been so long since he rode with Maya, it will be ample time to catch up- to gather the information he has so desperately yearned for since the _incident_. They make a good team, it's how they managed to survive under Jack's servitude. Now Tim has hardened up, become used to life on Pandora, he knows they will be even stronger. This is a good idea, he continually tells himself. Perhaps the amount of times he repeats it should tell him something, but he chooses to ignore that cynical voice in his head.

It's actually a relief to get back on a bike. They are Tim's preferred choice of transportation; that's how's been getting across Pandora all this time, with the exception of a few cars he stole because the urge was there and he failed to quell it. Bikes are much easier to maintain than a car and attract a lot less attention. They're also faster. This comes in handy when you're on the run.

Tim opens the throttle and kicks off the stand. The engine roars to life beneath him, sending a thrill of pleasure running through his body. There isn't much that excites him these days, but the feeling of being on a bike is one of them.

He closes his helmet, glancing over at Maya who gives him a small nod of affirmation. He kicks off, and they leave Hollow Point behind them in a cloud of dust.


	2. Chapter 2

Days in the badlands are long and the nights are short and bitterly cold. The wildlife is bloodthirsty and ravenous, killing everything that moves. Maya supposes it garnered its name for a reason. There are a lot of horrific places in Pandora, but the endless expanse of dusty badlands is, undoubtedly, the worst.

They don't stop for a long on the first night, trying to close the gap between them and the sisters. Tim notices that Maya still hasn't told him exactly why they're chasing them across Pandora, nor has she divulged who she is doing this for. Whoever it is, they must have a hell of a lot against her. Tim can't imagine the type of people she has embroiled herself in on her nomadic travels since she strayed away from the group of vault hunters.

Surprisingly, that is one thing she is comfortable in talking about. She talks about the other vault hunters freely; muses aloud as to where they are these days, confides in Tim snippets of their time together. Tim notices she talks about them with such admiration. She admits they are all still on Pandora, but for some reason that goes unmentioned, she didn't want to join any of them. Tim doesn't ask why. He knows firsthand that vault hunters are predominantly solitary creatures, only banding together for strength in numbers when necessary. However, their journey together sounded a lot more significant than them just finding a vault.

Tim wonders if she regards Elpis as the same.

They make camp under a shelf of rock on the second night, both of them too exhausted to continue their journey. They've been riding flat out for almost twenty-four hours, and have convinced themselves they deserve a rest. Although Tim is used to living on less sleep than this, he still welcomes the opportunity. When he first left Helios and came down to Pandora he, miraculously, managed to live on a few hours of sleep a week. He never stopped running. 

He still hasn't stopped. But it's better these days. Or so he tells himself.

When Maya asks if Tim ever ran with a group on Pandora, it is only then does he realise the true extent of his solicitude. There are a few people that stick out in his mind; Roland, the Crimson Raiders leader who offered him a position after he'd stumbled across the settlement they were trying to rebuild after a Hyperion strike team had all but just obliterated it. It was a month after Tim had escaped from Helios, at the time he believed in the strength in numbers sentiment. Roland never asked what dwelled underneath his mask and Tim never told him. His prowess on the battlefield was enough to cement him a place in the regiment. Tim only ever spoke to Roland a few times but respected him greatly, admired that he was trying to take Pandora back from its oppressors. 

Unfortunately, Roland met his untimely demise. Or so Tim heard one night in a bar. He only worked with the Raiders for a couple of weeks, yet he still felt the unimaginable loss at hearing this information. It seemed the rest of Pandora did too.

Eventually, after an hour of silence, roasting skewers of rakk meat over a puny fire, Tim's resolve breaks.

"What happened?" His voice is much sharper than intended. Maya looks up in surprise, only for an infinitesimal moment does her face look hollow and sunken. It must be a trick of the light. "That day?"

He doesn't need to iterate any further. Maya lowers down the skewer, not that she was hungry anyway. She's been nibbling around the charred meat for a while now. Tim was watching her.

"We went down to the Vault of the Warrior," she says, turning her head and looking off into space. Although Tim's mask is faceless, Maya is more aware than anyone what lurks beneath. She knows Tim too well, but he can imagine it must still be unsettling for her.

"Jack got there before us and opened the vault. It was... terrible." She looks down. "The fight... it was just never ending. I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to die and Jack was going to win. I guess that was the only thing that kept me alive."

Tim waits, tactfully silent.

"He had digistructs, a lot like yours. Except they weren't as sentient. For a moment, when I saw them all I thought-"

_That one of them was me._

"Then he unleashed the Warrior." Maya's voice is distant, like she has gone back to the depths of her memories and is no longer here. "But then it died, just like everything else."

It takes a few seconds for Maya to find her voice again.

"I shot him," she says, hollowly. Somehow, Tim was expecting something much more dramatic- with more of a Jack flare. Jack was untouchable, downright immortal. How could something as measly as a bullet have killed the most powerful man in the galaxy? "I put him in a phaselock and shot him."

The lilt of her voice tells Tim that there's something unspoken hanging in the air- something she wants to say but can't quite manage. Tim doesn't press, he would never make her talk about it. She's told him what she's comfortable with and he has to respect that. Besides, Tim doesn't know if he'd be able to stomach all the gory details.

"Did you... think he was me?" It was only logical for Jack to send his doppelgänger down to do the dirty work so he would remain unharmed. However, Jack's hero complex was too inflated. He wanted the glory for himself.

Maya's expression is hard to read. "There was a moment. But I'd like to think you'd never do that to me."

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I didn't-"

"It's okay," she says, quickly, eager to forget about it. The nightmares plague her enough when she sleeps, she doesn't need to be haunted while she's awake too.

After clearing her throat and waiting for a few beats of silence, Maya asks, "Have you ever been to Old Haven?"

"Not recently," he replies, casting his mind back to the last time he stumbled to the abandoned settlement a couple of years ago. "There hasn't been any activity there for a while, right?"

"Right," Maya agrees. "From what I've heard, there used to be some massive Atlas structure there before Hyperion ran it into the ground." Her voice trails off as she stares deeply into the flames, lost in thought. Tim doesn't interrupt her.

"I wonder why Fiona and Sasha want to go there," the Siren mumbles, more to herself than anything.

"Maybe Atlas had plans to get into the same vault?" He suggests.

The idea is entirely feasible. Atlas and Hyperion were always neck-and-neck when it came to discovering Eridium mines and vaults. That was why Jack saw them as such a threat and tore them down. Timothy remembers standing in for him at many a meeting with Atlas managers and CEOs, remembers them begging him to leave their corporation alone. Jack wouldn't allow that, of course.

"Maybe," Maya agrees. She pulls the blanket that's wrapped her shoulders in tighter, shivering slightly. Tim would offer her his jacket if he wasn't already getting frostbite himself. They should be use to the cruel conditions of the Pandoran wastes, yet it comes as a surprise every time. 

They call it a night soon after, both agreeing to be awake and ready to travel before dawn. Maya keeps watch for a while, but when no danger makes itself immediately apparent, she finds herself dozing off.

***

_The heavy weight across her throat is a familiar feeling. The blistering, volcanic earth is a familiar burn. The scent of eridium is heavy in the air, as well as something metallic- blood? The river of lava roars loudly in her ears, threatening to burst her eardrums with the cacophonous thunder._

_The man bearing down on her is even more familiar._

_"You think-?" He grits out, mouth pulled back into a leer. "You think you can try and kill me? You think you and your pathetic little friends could kill a god?"_

_She squirms as his arm applies more pressure to her windpipe. Now she truly can't breathe._

_"I made you," he hisses. This is when she knows it's personal. "I brought you up to Helios that day and made you a vault hunter. And this is how you repay me?"_

_His mask is splattered in blood- hers or his?_

_"You're no better than that bitch Lilith. When I'm done here, you're gonna regret ever trying to touch me." He bears down on her with full force. "If the eridium extraction doesn't kill you first, I've got plenty of other ways. I've been thinkin' about it. You know, I maybe could've forgiven you. Maybe. That was before you killed Angel. Now I'm gonna make you pay."_

_"We saved her," she rasps, scrabbling at his arm. "She- she would've rather died than stay with you."_

_The punch comes so quickly she barely registers it, until her face begins throbbing and she feels blood bubbling in her mouth. She writhes beneath him, spitting up in his face._

_"Fuck you," she gasps. "I'm gonna kill you."_

_"Are you?" Handsome Jack leers. "Are you sure about that, Maya?"_

_He wraps his hands around her throat. She struggles for only a few seconds._

_And then nothing._

***

The nightmare jars her awake. For a few seconds, all Maya is aware of is the loud ringing in her ears and her breath catching in her throat. Blinking a few times, she bears her surroundings; she isn't back in the vault, this is real life. Across the embers of the campfire is Tim. He'd never let anything harm her. She's safe. Jack can never touch her again.

No matter how much she repeats this mantra in her mind, it still doesn't stop her hands from trembling.

When she killed Jack a year ago, she thought that would be the end of it. Never did she imagine he would appear in her nightmares too- more often than she'd like to admit. She always maintained she was never scared of Jack; she knew him when he was a nobody programmer desperately clawing the corporate ladder, she knew who he was beneath the mask and the bravado. He was a coward.

Maya didn't think she was untouchable because she was a Siren, far from it. She just assumed Jack would never be able to touch her again.

She was horribly wrong.

He'd almost killed her in the vault. He left her with a bullet lodged in her stomach, bleeding profusely as she collapsed onto the ground. With Jack and the Warrior dead, she could curl up and die too. The indignity of dying five feet away from Jack bothered her, but there was nothing she could do. With every passing second, the light faded from her. With Lilith knocked out cold, there was no one to rescue her.

At some point, she accepted death. Embraced it.

She remembers waking up in hospital with no recollection of having gotten there. Zer0 was by her bedside. A '<3' flashed on his visor when he saw her stirring. He informed her that he was the one who dragged her from the vault. She remembers needing to thank him but never actually managing to get the words out.

Axton and Gaige were allowed in to see her soon after. Gaige smothered her in such a tight hug it almost ruptured the wound the doctors had so laboriously stitched back up. It was too severe for an ordinary Anshin, so they'd had to revert back to the primeval days and operate on her.

Axton squeezed her hand tightly. He didn't say much, but he was a man of little words at the best of times. Maya saw the wetness in his eyes and knew how sincere he was. She never questioned his loyalty for a second.

"We did it, Maya," Gaige sniffled. "You killed Jack and the Warrior. The Vault is all yours."

"Ours," she'd corrected the young girl.

Maya took the lions share of the vault treasure, to which no one protested. She had done the dirty work, if anyone deserved it, she did. Despite the common misconception that vault hunters are selfish and rapacious, their loyalty to Maya outweighed any desire to get their hands on the riches.

As she lays staring up at the shelf of rock, she feels a pang of longing in her chest. They were the closest thing to a family she ever had. A part of her misses those days; traipsing around Pandora searching for treasure. Simultaneously, they were the worst days of her life but also the best. It was the only time in her life she felt like she truly belonged.

Glancing over, she sees Tim is still asleep. Strange. She was under the impression he never rested, always having to keep a close eye over his shoulder. Behind the mask, she wonders if he is flinching in his sleep; if he is beset with nightmares like she is. Maya can only imagine the hell he went through in Jack's servitude, what he must have endured.

She wonders what the final straw that broke his back was.

Soon after, Tim rouses and is surprised to see Maya has already packed the majority of the camp away. She must've been awake for a while, yet he never heard her stir. Tim always prides himself on being a light sleeper- you need to be when you have the biggest megacorporation in the universe hunting you down- but this is the best he has slept in a while. Perhaps it was the promise of protection that eased him.

They exchange brief 'morning's' before loading up the bikes and preparing to head out. Maya's ECHO tells them they're about a day away from reaching Old Haven, making much better time than she expected. They mutually decide it's best to travel flat out without anymore breaks, they don't want the trail to go cold.

Travelling gives Tim the opportunity to wrap his head around what Maya told him last night. Although he (miraculously) didn't dream about it, he was aware of it tugging in the back of his mind. Before he slept, her words rang around his head.

 _I shot him_.

Tim had visions of explosions that would cover the planet in ash. Jack teetering over the edge of the vault and plummeting into molten lava, his outward stretched hand the last thing to sink into oblivion. The vault cracking open and swallowing him whole, never to be seen again.

He was just a man. It was hard to remember, but he was mortal, after all. And he died like how all the rest of them inevitably will.

Tim doesn't know why the revelation unsettles him so much.

There were so many times when Jack's back was turned; in his office, in the gun range, in his apartment, Tim could've easily pressed the barrel of the gun to his skull and squeezed the trigger. It would've been over in seconds. How many people would Tim have saved if he had? How much destruction could he have prevented if he'd not been a coward?

Part of it was because Tim never truly believed Jack would be felled by something so insignificant. With the amount of security measures he took, it seemed unfeasible a bullet would finish him off. He probably had some kind of shield around his mask. And then Jack would turn around, grab Tim by the throat and squeeze the life out of him. Was it a risk Tim was willing to take? Selfishly, no.

The other part- what he is more reluctant to admit- was that even if the opportunity arose, he wouldn't take it. Not out of cowardice, but out of loyalty. To this day, Tim doesn't know if he would've had the nerve to kill Jack if it was him down in the vault.

Some old chains are hard to break.

***

Old Haven appears to be empty when they arrive. Their footsteps ring out through the corrugated streets, the buildings stand silent and menacing. Tim cannot shake off the feeling they are being watched. He pulls the collar of his jacket closer to his neck, trying not to let the sensation unnerve him.

Someone has managed to erect a forgotten Atlas facility, which seems to solidify the rumours about Old Haven being true. There were always whispers on the wind that the town wasn't all that met the eye, but it was impossible to prove otherwise. Clearly this is why the sisters headed here straightaway. Maya suspects there must be some kind of artefact hidden in the facility.

Tim was right; Atlas and Hyperion were always neck-and-neck when it came to finding vaults, if anything Hyperion were just a nudge ahead, so for Atlas to hide something in such a remote facility must mean there is something of incredible value in the depths- something they didn't want their rivals getting their hands on.

Tim observes that the caravan has been parked a few street away, indicating the sisters must have gone inside. Maya says they should hang back, only intervening if there is any sign they need to.

Suddenly, the roaring of bikes and the rumble of a much larger vehicle fills the silent air. Maya and Tim retreat into the shadows, pressing their backs flat against a wall as they feel the ground quiver beneath them. Tim looks over at her and widens his eyes slightly, before remembering that she can't actually see his face anymore.

Slowly, they begin creeping down the alley, listening out intently. They hear the shriek of a vehicle pulling to an abrupt stop, then the engines of the bikes are cut off. In the moments of silence, Tim finds himself holding his breath. Who the hell could've followed them to Old Haven? Bounty hunters? A Hyperion strike team? It's no coincidence that people are flocking here; they're either after the vault hunters or the sisters Maya is following.

Maya motions for Tim to follow her, pointing at a ladder leading to the rooftops. He gives a sharp nod, steadying it for her as she clambers up. The metal creaks under his weight, and for a terrifying moment Tim wonders whether it will be enough to garner the attention of the newcomers. For a terse second he freezes, waiting for shouts and gunfires to echo out. When greeted with silence, he continues shimmying skyward.

Maya is crouched on the roof, her face set hard. "I can't get a good look, but it looks like some sort of gang of bandits."

Some of the tension leaves Tim's shoulders. Bandits he can deal with. It's the pinstriped suits and loader bots he cannot handle.

Cautiously, they edge closer. Remaining in the shadows, they transverse across the rooftops to hone in on the facility. The closer they get, the louder the voices become. At first they are mere murmurs, but they swell to a crescendo.

"-Vasquez has gone in with August."

"Vasquez? I hate that guy. August should've shot him when he had the chance."

"And miss out on ten million dollars?" There is a muffled sound of a slap. "You're an idiot, Ross. This is why I'm the brains of the operation."

"I thought Vallory was."

Vallory. Ten million dollars. Maya frowns as she tries to make sense of it. This Vasquez character obviously promised an obscene amount of money to Vallory and her cronies, but for what? What could possibly be worth that amount of money?

Maya's breathing stills. Unless... A vault key?

Her and Tim press themselves onto the roof on their stomachs. If they're lucky, they won't be spotted. 

Not even minutes later, a second vehicle appears. It looks like a much more advanced model of the technical the other bandits arrived in. As the car draws to a dramatic stop, the door swings open and a spiked stiletto is placed on the ground. Maya narrows her eyes as she watches Vallory's girth unfold from the driver's side.

Even from the rooftops, she cuts a menacing figure. Taller than any of the men in her unit, her grizzled face has been scarred by three scratch marks that look like they could've come from something huge and taloned. Her lips are painted black, pulled back into a sneer, revealing metal teeth that glint in the afternoon sunlight. When she tilts down her bulky sunglasses, it reveals one cold, amber eye and another milky one that appears to have been damaged in the same attack that scarred her face. So this is the infamous bandit queen. If someone had asked Maya to sketch what she thought the woman looked like, this would've been what she'd have drawn.

"Where's August?" She snaps, voice husky and low.

"He's still in the facility, ma'am," one of her lackeys says. "Vasquez went down about ten minutes ago."

Vallory growls deep in her throat.

"He's gonna wish he never came here."

Tim tries to make sense of the situation in his mind. Has Maya been sworn to protect the sisters from Vallory? From this faceless Vasquez guy? Just who the hell did Maya make a promise to that lead them to be trapped on a rooftop staking out Vallory and her cronies?

The doors on Vallory's car open again, this time revealing the two bounty hunters who had been pursuing the sisters in Hollow Point. One of them is horribly disfigured, half the skin on his face seems to have melted away and then knitted back together, exposing horribly pink and shiny seams. The moustached one murmurs something to Vallory to which her response is indiscernible.

"You've got a scope on your gun, right?" Maya whispers. Tim nods. "Keep your scope on those bounty hunters."

Obediently, Tim settles the gun on his shoulder and keeps his eye trained on the targets. In his peripheral vision he catches Maya reaching for her own weapon.

It feels like they are waiting for hours for something to happen. The bandits go silent and the air is tense and still once more. The Siren keeps her focus on the entrance of the facility at all times, while Tim watches over Vallory's men. So far they haven't been spotted. Though he reckons it's only a matter of time.

Out of nowhere, a piercing siren cuts through the air causing everyone to jump. Gunfire follows immediately after. Tim and Maya stiffen, their grip on their weapons even tighter now.

Vallory leers. "Showtime."

***

Rhys has been in a few sticky situations during his life. Some funny, like the time Stacey hid him in her closet when her mom unexpectedly came home from work early, and he was crouched in there for half an hour just in his boxers. Other times were a lot more terrifying, like being in the Bossanova's Murder Rally and being chased by a rakk hive. But perhaps, in his twenty seven years, the most terrifying thing was fighting his way out of the underground Atlas base armed with a defective security bot and Handsome Jack in his brain.

The renegades burst out of the facility, August and Vasquez close in tow. They are greeted by twenty men looking down the barrels of their guns, all of them coincidentally aimed at them. Fiona tries to steer Loader Bot away, but in a flash of light and the sickening crunch of metal, they are thrown off his back. Fiona tries to keep her arms wrapped around the metal ball, but in the collision it slips out of her grip.

Rhys holds his breath as it rolls underneath the heel of a terrifying bulwark of a woman. Donned in a heavy fur jacket, bullymong-fur heels and a leering smile, she looks like one of the Pandoran bandit queens. And Rhys suspects that's exactly what she is, which becomes evident as he eyes her entourage of men armed to the teeth with guns and grenades. Him and Vaughn freeze at the same time, terrified that if they move even an inch they'll open fire.

The bandit queen offers her hand to Fiona, and Rhys closes his eyes and prays the con artist doesn't do anything stupid. Thankfully, she accepts it with a polite smile, dusting down her coat. 

"You the leader of this outfit?"

Many responses are on the tip of Fiona's tongue. She strongly considers allocating this mantle to Rhys, but as she glances over her shoulder to watch him struggle to her feet, she is hit by an inexplicable pang of sympathy. The urge to protect him from their common enemy.

"It's a joint effort, I'd say."

Vallory gives a slight inclination of her head. Obviously this was not the answer she'd been expecting. Nor Sasha, apparently, who watches her sister with eyebrows raised inches up her forehead.

In the corner of her eye, Fiona spots the bounty hunters- Finch and Kroger, was it?- emerging from behind Vallory's bulk. She freezes, eyes widening ever so slightly. She has her fixed poker face on, as a way to not show weakness to this bandit queen, but she is unable to hide her surprise when she sees them. She's even more surprised to see the damage her electric bullet did to Finch's face, which is now gnarled and puckered.

"There she is," Finch growls. "Remember me?" 

Fiona makes a show of tapping her chin in thought. "No. Should I?"

As he advances towards her, hand already resting on the handle of his gun, Vallory raises a lazy hand. He stops in his tracks immediately. Fiona cannot deny she's impressed by the amount of control she has over her lackeys.

"Get back in the truck," she says, coldly. "You're being a nuisance."

It takes a few seconds for her command to sink in. They trudge back to the technical, shoulders hunched over as Finch mutters darkly to himself about shooting her.

"Fi," Sasha says, stepping forward. Her older sister cuts her off with a raised hand, never taking her eyes off of the bandit queen.

"I see why you're Felix's favourite," she says, much to both of the sister's shock. "Don't be surprised, I've known about you two for as long as you've been lifting wallets."

"What do you want?" Asks Fiona, trying to sound business-like. She hopes Vallory doesn't detect the tremor in her tone.

"It's like this; I'm out of ten million bucks because someone turned a simple deal into a complete shitshow." Vallory draws herself to full height. Fiona feels her legs tremble. "Someone has to pay for that."

Before Fiona has a chance to respond, August and Vasquez come sprinting out of the facility. Vasquez is nursing a bleeding stump that was once his left arm, but thanks to Rhys has been left to decay in the Atlas facility for the rest of time. Vallory's lip contorts into a snarl upon seeing them, a low noise coming from the back of her throat.

"Okay, okay, I know how it looks," August holds his hands up- in defeat? "Things got a little messed up, but-"

"Shut up. I'll deal with you later."

"I just wanna say I had nothing to do with this," Vasquez interjects, voice dripping with desperation.

Vallory scoffs. "Who's to blame here, Fiona? I want a name."

Fiona inhales deeply, closing her eyes. When she opens them again, she sees Vallory watching her with her head slightly cocked, as if Fiona were some flora she were examining interestedly.

"Felix... This is all Felix's fault." Even uttering the name of their former mentor causes a lance of pain in Fiona's heart. Sasha jerks as if she were slapped, eyes visibly burning with much less ire.

Vallory cocks her hands on her hips. "But the word on the street is Felix is dead."

"Then I guess he got what he deserved."

Vasquez approaches the bandit queen cautiously. "Look, I know you're super pissed, but we've got the Gortys thing, and it is gonna get us a vault that's worth way more than ten million bucks. Just like we told you. Everything is fine! We're fine!"

Vallory picks up the Gortys ball, scrutinising it closely. Fiona clenches her hands as she itches to lunge forward and yank it out of her grasp.

"So this is what all the fuss is about?"

"Yeah," Vasquez exhales. "Yeah. That's our little moneymaker."

"Oh. Then I guess I don't need you anymore."

It takes only seconds. Vallory snatches Vasquez's shotgun and blows a hole right through his gut. Fiona gasps and jumps back, blood and body matter splattering across her cheek. Her heart is racing at the sudden movement, wondering if Vallory is going to turn on her next. She takes a stumbling step backwards, wiping her cheek with the back of her shaking hand.

Vallory cackles, tossing the shotgun onto the ground with a _thunk_. "I suppose I don't need any of you." She draws her own handgun, aiming it right at Fiona's head. She tries to think of something adequate to say to spare her life- or Sasha's- but her mind draws a blank. All she can focus on is the ringing in her ears and the heavy weight of all the protests in her mouth.

***

Maya clenches her fist, sending out a phaselock to protectively shield Fiona. The bullet pings off of it uselessly.

The bandits all freeze, looking at one another and to Vallory for instruction, who seems a little stunned herself. In their moments of confusion, both Maya and Tim leap into action.

The Siren falls from the rooftop onto one of the bandit's shoulders, knocking him flat to the ground and hitting his temple with the butt of her beloved Maliwan pistol. The whole scene descends into chaos when they see her amongst their ranks.

Maya quickly phaselocks one of the beefier bandits, effectively stopping one of his bullets penetrating her brain, and shoots the masked man behind him. She quickly manages to roll out of the way of one of Vallory's bullets, making the older woman grunt in frustration.

In the anarchy, Fiona picks up the discarded shotgun and fires as many shots as she can, whilst Sasha unloads the rest of the ammo from the SMG she stole from August. Vaughn cowers behind a piece of debris, as Rhys lunges forward for the metal ball that Vallory previously had possession of. Thankfully, everyone is too embroiled in the gunfire to realise that he's snatched it back. As soon as he has it clutched to his chest, he dives behind the detritus with Vaughn.

Tim drops from his makeshift sniper nest and goes in guns blazing, relishing the feeling of being back in combat. Nothing this exciting has happened to him in months, not since he's been playing it safe. He knows he'll regret it tomorrow when his joints are sore and ligaments torn, but for now, he fights for his life.

The skirmish halts suddenly, the atmosphere deadly calm. Maya faces off against Vallory, protectively covering the sisters who are watching in horror. How did they manage to get found by the bounty hunters again?

Maya aims her pistol at the bandit queen. "I suggest you leave."

Even though the bandit is at least a head taller than her and much bulkier, the Siren poses a terrifying figure- her whole body glowing purple and tattoos pulsating. The bandit queen stares into her eyes, iced over and far too serene for such a situation, and knows immediately not to push it too far. Especially not with a Siren.

"This isn't over," she leers, backing into her vehicle.

"Really? You're the one leaving," Maya remarks, gun still cocked.

"Oh trust me," Vallory says darkly. "It will much feel much different to this."

The remainder of her men reluctantly round themselves into their vehicles on her order. When they're gone, Maya finally turns back on the sisters.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She demands as they all take a tentative step backwards. Tim comes over to join them, leaning against a wooden pillar. Behind his mask, his eyebrows are raised in amusement at the kid's terrified faces. He has to concede, Maya looks _scary_. Especially with her gritted teeth and eyes that are disapproving slits.

"Are you after the vault?" Fiona asks lamely.

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm trying to look after you!" Maya exclaims, and as her temper rises, the purple aura surrounding her only becomes more fulgent. "How many more times do I need to save your asses?"

"We didn't ask you to do that," Sasha points out, pouting slightly.

Maya inhales, collecting herself before dropping the bomb. "No, but Felix did."

Both sisters tense at the mention of his name. Their faces arrange into expressions of dismay and simultaneous anger.

"He what?" The smaller one repeats, voice dangerously low.

"He thought you two had untapped potential to become vault hunters. So I'm here to help," the Siren says, sounding deadpan.

The sisters just stare at one another, the taller one raising her eyebrows in disbelief. "Are you freaking serious?"

"Would I have gone against Vallory and her cronies if I wasn't?" She pauses, inclining her head in Rhys' direction. "What's that?"

"Wha- oh! This is gonna lead us to the vault," Rhys says proudly, puffing his chest slightly.

"Have you got it to work yet?" Tim asks, which grants him another glower. He suppresses his chuckle at the pretty-boy's pout.

Rhys sets it on the ground, Fiona crouches beside him as they inspect it together, running their hands over the smooth metal to find some kind of power switch. Maya and Tim stand a distance away, arms folded and eyebrows raised as the amateur vault hunters put their heads together and murmur to one another. Maya then notices the smaller man straying some distance away, bent over Vasquez's body and prodding it with a stick. The Siren nudges Tim, motioning her head, and the doppelgänger snorts.

"Probably his first dead body," he whispers. Maya nods in agreement, too transfixed on watching the man's actions. He gets braver, raising the stick to poke Vasquez's neck, eventually using it to toy his head around.

"God he's... he's really going for it, huh?" Tim remarks. "That's actually kinda sick."

"He's Hyperion. They're all sick," Maya says out of the corner of her mouth.

"Huh?" Tim really does jolt to attention. "How do you know?"

"Did you not see the tags on their shirts? The coiffed hair? The fancy boots? Come on, Tim, you spent enough time on Helios to know a Hyperion stooge when you see one."

That's true. Yet these years on Pandora spent intermingling with the scavs and scum of the universe have dimmed his senses to the corporate bullshit. He hasn't seen a Hyperion businessman in years. They don't associate themselves with the physical exertions of their corrupt company. Now, Tim sees this in a new light. It's almost hilarious that two Hyperion lackeys have been tossed into the middle of Pandora and teamed up with Pandoran con artists and vault hunters.

When Tim comes back to his senses, he sees Rhys cradling the ball which has developed a face and... arms?

"Guys, this is Gortys," the company man introduces them to the robot. Both vault hunters just stare, unsure of what to say.

"It's so great to meet you!" the robot chirps. "I'm gonna lead us to a vault!"

"That's... that's great," Tim nods slowly. "Thanks, I guess?"

"No problem!" the robot projects a smile on her face screen. "First, I need to find some of my missing parts. But then I'll find the vault, I promise!"

"So we've got to traipse around Pandora looking for your parts?" Maya asks for clarification.

"Um... yep!" Gortys says brightly.

"Great," the Siren mutters. "Nothing is ever simple, is it?"

"Is it ever for a vault hunter?" Sasha asks rhetorically. And, well, Maya can't argue with that.

***

It turns out Vallory's cronies have run right over Tim and Maya's bikes, leaving behind a hunk of twisted metal. Whether this was a deliberate parting blow is hard to say, though Tim would bet it is.

Because they now have no means of getting across Pandora, they have been shepherded into the sister's caravan, which is mortifying. Encased in a small space with complete strangers isn't Tim's idea of fun. He stands beside the door, arms crossed over his chest as if acting as a repellant, alerting them all he isn't up for a conversation. He's aware of the eyes flickering over his faceless mask, he sets his own countenance hard behind it.

After seeing them in action, Tim has no idea how they're going to pull off finding a vault; the only one who seemed competent with shooting was the younger sister- Sarah? Sasha- whereas Fiona fired the shotgun haphazardly, clearly inexperienced. Neither of the Hyperion stooges even attempted to pick up a weapon, choosing to cower away instead; but that figures, they're not trained for this type of thing on Helios.

In a twisted way, Tim finds the whole situation hilarious. If he wasn't stuck right in the middle of it, he'd be getting a good laugh out of it by now.

Looking over, he sees Maya in the corner of the caravan, her legs pulled to her chest as she stares into space. She must be oblivious to the stares the sisters are giving her.

Rhys is driving because apparently the girls have been driving non-stop for three days and need a break. The events of the day seem to have traumatised Rhys, so he agrees without protest which definitely would not have happened a few days ago. Either he's still in shock from seeing Vasquez getting blown open, or he's heavily aware of the vault hunters breathing down his neck. 

As he drives, he lets his brain go on auto-pilot as he loses himself in his thoughts. He feels like he recognises the blue-haired vault hunter, but he draws a blank as to where from. When he saw her face, he felt a tug of familiarity in the back of his brain but still remains clueless. He hasn't had opportunity to scan her with the ECHO Eye, though he's not sure he dares. She'd pulverise him if she found out. Rhys saw how easily she can flick her wrist and disintegrate someone in her phaselocks. He would be no exception.

Rhys tries to familiarise how he feels about Vasquez dying. Admittedly, it's a huge relief that he will no longer be able to chase them across Pandora and set even more Hyperion forces onto them, but Rhys feels like he was owed revenge. Watching the life drain out of him was nowhere near as satisfying as it would've been to enact his own amercement.

He wanted Vasquez to be humiliated. He wanted everyone on Helios to see his fall from grace as Rhys would swoop in and take his place.

Now he will never know what that victory feels like. 

He doesn't realise he's gripping the steering wheel so hard until he hears the leather creaking. An impressive feat with his flesh hand. Casting a backwards glance over his shoulder; he sees the sisters are leaning against each other exhaustedly, Vaughn is playing nervously on his watch, his eyes flickering towards the vault hunters every few seconds, while the vault hunters seem completely at ease.

Okay, fine. Rhys admits it: meeting real life vault hunters is pretty freaking cool. Especially one whose a Siren. She is taunt with magic, and whether she realises it or not, it's palpable in such a small space. Rhys can practically taste the cool, metallic aura.

As for the other guy, Timothy, he doesn't know what to think. He is arguably less cool than Maya, especially with that weird faceless mask he dons. It's downright unsettling. Rhys tries not to gawp, because he doesn't know whether Timothy is watching him back, but it's hard to tear his eyes away from it.

He doesn't think he's heard Timothy even say five words since he got here. Maya has been slightly more up-front, but not much. Fiona sensed the Siren wasn't in the mood for an interrogation and quickly shut her mouth, practically closing her jaw with a snap. Surprisingly, Sasha has remained in stony silence too. Rhys thought the younger sister would be grilling her, especially with the revelation about Felix. Although the sisters have handled it meticulously, they are still heartbroken over Felix's betrayal. No one more than Sasha, who hides it behind a stony countenance.

Gortys is a delight, though. She sits on the dashboard and tells Rhys where to head, even though there isn't a lot of option in the wastelands. She chatters to him and he finds himself mindlessly responding without realising. It's nice, actually, to have such a positive addition to the group. God knows they could use a bit of cheer after today.

The afternoon seems endless. The silence in the caravan only becomes stretched more thin. Rhys' metal fingers begin twitching restlessly. Sasha offers to take over the wheel but he denies her. If he didn't have driving to focus on he would be pushed to the brink of insanity with the silence.

Around dusk, Fiona digs in her bag and asks if anyone is hungry. Vaughn and Sasha hungrily accept the bag of jerky she shares around, but Rhys turns it down; too deep in thought. Maya accepts but Tim declines. He doesn't know these people well enough to be sharing food with them. If he's learnt one thing in his three years on Pandora, it's to trust no one. Not even seemingly hopeless Pandoran grifters, and _especially_ not Hyperion stooges.

Tim longs for the freedom of the open road and the feeling of hot grit against his exposed skin. The caravan is cramped up like a coffin; too stuffy, too hard to breathe. If he doesn't get fresh air soon he reckons he might pass out.

He hasn't been in the presence of so many people in months- especially complete strangers. Of course he trusts Maya's judgement, but she knows these people less than he does. How can she be so sure this is the right thing to do? While they may look harmless, no one from Hyperion is innocuous.

Jack was powerless once upon a time. Look how that turned out.

"So," Maya says, startling them all. "Would anyone like to explain what happened this afternoon?"

Fiona, obviously the self-appointed spokesperson, takes off her hat and runs a hand through her hair.

"It's... complicated. We had a plan with Felix to sell August a fake vault key, but he found out it was a dud. Then we lost the ten million dollars these two-" She jabs a finger in Rhys and Vaughn's direction. "-Laundered from Hyperion. There was a death rally, Felix betrayed us and we lost the money for good. That's where our story ends, seeing as you found is in Hollow Point."

Maya nods curtly. "Sounds like you've not been having a good week."

Fiona emits a bark-like laugh. "I guess you could say that."

"What about these two?" Tim interjects, for the first time. "What have you been up to?" Behind the mask his eyes are narrow and distrustful.

"Us?" Vaughn appears flustered. "We-we got lost in the desert, then Vasquez tried to kill us."

"How did two Hyperion desk jockeys manage to survive the badlands?" He presses. Vaughn feels the beads of sweat trickling down his neck.

"Because we had help," Rhys speaks up. He feels a twitching in the back of his brain, immediately he knows this is where Jack is nestled. He promised the AI of the former CEO he would keep his presence a secret. If he were to mention it in a caravan full of Pandorans, he would likely be bludgeoned to death. "Loader Bot found us and took us straight to Old Haven."

_Nice save, kitten._

Tim makes a noncommittal grunt, saying no more. Rhys wonders what he hoped they would say. Of course Pandorans won't trust them, but... he kind of wishes they would give him and Vaughn the benefit of the doubt. Do they look like the type to be up to anything sinister? They barely managed to escape the bodged vault key deal with their lives.

Nightfall approaches and it seems like no one is waking up soon. Rhys feels his eyes beginning to droop, jerking his head back as he blinks hard and tries to get rid of the fuzz around his vision. There's no way he's asking Timothy to take over. He'd probably take his head in both hands and squeeze it like a watermelon. Judging by the size of his muscles, he would find it easy too.

Rhys doesn't realise he's fallen asleep until he feels something poking his shoulder. Bleary-eyed, he turns around to see either Fiona or Sasha, ready to give him a lecture about irresponsibility- but he is amazed to see it's Timothy bearing down on him.

"Get some rest," he says. "I'll take over."

Instinctually, Rhys says, "I'm okay. Thanks though."

Tim sighs, sounding exasperated with their exchange. "I know you haven't slept, and I don't want you crashing our only ride across Pandora."

"I'm not _that_ bad," his voice tapers off uncertainly towards the end. Behind the mask, Tim raises his eyebrows.

"Didn't you crash into a rakk hive?"

"That... that was a stressful situation," grumbles Rhys. "I was trying to navigate through Hyperion moonshots."

Tim hums in response.

In the end, Rhys stands up and lets his driving shift be taken over. Truthfully, he doesn't mind too much. He's looking forward to catching up on some much needed sleep, he can't remember the last time he slept properly. He still hasn't adjusted to this new way of life. When he does manage to drift off, he's soon awakened by his heart racing and brain screaming at him that something is trying to kill him.

Instead of heading to the back of the caravan, Rhys lingers a little while. He tells himself he's evaluating Timothy's driving (not that it can be much worse than his) when, deep down, the little voice in his head tells him that he finds Timothy _intriguing_. Working on Hyperion didn't expose Rhys to vault hunters, who are considered exciting and exotic to the over-worked office staff.

Dangerous too, he must remind himself.

Annoyingly, Tim's driving is smooth and steady. The caravan doesn't judder around like it did when Rhys was at the wheel. His cheeks burn slightly with the realisation.

While Timothy is focusing on driving, Rhys allows himself to sneakily study his side profile. The mask is amazing, it doesn't show any semblance of the vault hunter's real countenance; it's all smooth surfaces and rounded edges. From the side, it almost looks like his face is flat. Rhys wonders how he managed to acquire such a piece of tech. And, more importantly, why he goes to such lengths to disguise himself.

He ignores the shiver that creeps down his spine.

Rhys is so lost in thought that he doesn't realise Timothy has inclined his head and has seen Rhys staring. He jerks back like he's been stung, wondering if the vault hunter is going to chew him out for being nosy.

What he says instead leaves him stunned.

"Is that an ECHO eye?" Inquires Timothy.

"Yeah..." Rhys shifts on his feet, uncomfortable with being scrutinised by the faceless mercenary. He will realise the irony in this later. "How do you know?"

"I've met a few people from Hyperion before," Tim replies, mysteriously. "I knew someone with an ECHO eye."

"You did?" Rhys is surprised, but fascinated. "They don't give them to everyone. Only the heads of departments get them, that's if they don't chicken out first. Not a lot of people are into that sort of body modification crap. Not me though."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't blow your own horn too hard, Stretch." Timothy rolls his eyes, and Rhys' cheeks heat in response. "So why do you have one, then? You don't look old enough to be some stodgy old head of programming."

The corner of Rhys' lips almost quirk into a smile. If he knows any better, the vault hunter is almost complimenting him. Almost. This is the most amicable he has been all day and the most Rhys has ever heard him speak- he can't help feel delighted that such a mysterious man has chosen to talk to him. Usually, everyone they meet seems to want to talk to Fiona. Apart from Zer0. God he was cool-

Rhys' brain runs away with him. Something that happens when he's nervous or under duress, which he is very, talking to Timothy. The vault hunter is built so solidly he looks like could fold him in half if he so desired. With one hand too, probably.

"It's a long story."

Tim finds himself compelled to continue the conversation. "How does it work? Can you see things that aren't there?"

"It scans databases and allows me to hack systems. It doesn't show me ghosts."

Tim huffs. "I knew that, smartass. I guess I thought it would be more useful."

"I... what do you mean ' _useful_ '?" Rhys feels the need to defend his ECHO eye. They've been through a lot together, it's helped him out of more sticky situations than Timothy could ever comprehend. The only Rhys is stood here now having this conversation is due to the powers of his eye.

Tim just shrugs, unabashed. "No need get so defensive."

Rhys frowns, narrowing his eyes as the mercenary turns his attention back to driving. Whilst his back is turned, Rhys quickly scans him with his enhanced eye. He feels like Tim would murdered him if he found out he was intruding, so he tries to be as discreet as possible. After a few seconds of scanning, Rhys gets a result. But it certainly isn't what he was expecting.

_Name: Timothy Lawrence_

_Age: N/A_

_Occupation: Mercenary_

_Affiliations: N/A_

_There is no information available about this person._

Rhys frowns. How is that possible? Even Sasha and Fiona had data on his eye. This is the first time this has ever happened. Rhys wants to find out why. He doesn't know how to approach the situation. He cannot come right out with ' _oh, by the way Timothy, I was invading your privacy and I'm wondering why Hyperion don't have any files on you_.' He'll just have to try and be subtle about it; dropping the occasional intrusive question here and there.

Rhys jumps suddenly when Jack's voice booms out from behind him, causing him to stumble over in surprise. When he looks up, Jack is looming over him with a smirk.

"Pleased to see me, cupcake?"

Rhys is mortified when Tim stops the caravan to check he's okay. Both him and Jack stand over him as he lays limp on the floor, far too embarrassed to move a muscle. Tim elicits a small sigh and holds out his hand for him. Rhys meekly takes his hand with his flesh one, mumbling a thank you and averting his eyes.

"I didn't think my driving was that bad," Tim says casually, and it takes Rhys a second to realise he's making a _joke_. He actually has a sense of humour hidden deep beneath the stony-facedness.

"I mean, it's okay," Rhys shrugs. "But it isn't as exciting as mine."

To his utter amazement, Tim chuckles.

He takes this as his cue to leave, he's already bothered Tim enough tonight. He trails to the back of the caravan, Jack in tow. Rhys tries to mask the pink tinge on his cheeks because the last thing he needs is Jack ribbing him about it.

"Hey, kid!" Jack greets with a chipper smile. "How ya doing? You recovered from earlier?"

"Hi, Jack," the company man murmurs, watching Maya carefully as she shifts in her sleep on the makeshift bed on the floor out of her and Timothy's jackets. The hologram leans forward to see what he's looking at, emitting a strange noise between a gasp and a laugh when he sees Maya.

"Hey, it's Maya!" he points out. "Haven't seen her in a while." He turns to Rhys, pulling a face. "Don't mention anything about me in front of her. I think she hates me."

 _Half the galaxy hates you_ , _Jack_ , Rhys thinks.

"And you've brought TimTam too," he slaps his thigh. "I never thought I'd see him again. Isn't this a small world?"

Rhys knows Pandora is small, but it's apparently disturbingly smaller with the amount of people Jack knows.

"I'm going to the roof," Rhys announces to Jack, forgetting Timothy can hear too.

"Careful you don't get blown away, Stretch," the mercenary says, voice lilting slightly. Rhys pauses momentarily before shimmying up the ladder and opening the hatch leading to the caravan roof.

Of course Jack follows him up, not through with him yet. It surprises Rhys how much attention Jack craves, something he didn't expect from the ruthless Hyperion president. He resembles a stray dog. More vicious than a dog. Perhaps a stray skag.

"So, you know Timothy and Maya?" Rhys asks, weakly. Maybe talking to Jack will give him more insight about the enigmatic vault hunter.

"Yeah. They work for me," Jack says simply, walking over to Loader Bot and humming thoughtfully.

"Wait... they're Hyperion?" Rhys repeats, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Last time checked, Maya had a seven hundred and ninety million dollar bounty over his head. It was hard no to notice the posters on Helios, when they were plastered on every noticeboard.

"Not officially. They just take care of stuff on Elpis for me." Jack stands opposite Rhys. The company man is lost in thought, barely aware Jack is talking to him. Are Timothy and Maya working to get the vault for Hyperion? Or their own agenda? Is this mission something Jack planned before his death, a year previously? Rhys desperately wants to ask, but is too scared of Jack's reaction.

"Anyway, how're you holding up, kid?" Jack inquires. "You've looked like death all day."

As offended as Rhys wants to be, he knows Jack is just telling the truth. "It's a lot to handle," he says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Today was like... nothing I've ever experienced before."

"At least you found Gortys," the hologram says.

"Yeah, I guess. That's the only good that's come out of Pandora so far." Jack raises his eyebrows, and Rhys desperately tries to backpedal. "I-I mean, beside meeting you o-of course."

Jack hesitates, crouching down in front the Hyperion employee and gazing him for a few seconds; evaluating him. "I want to thank you, Rhys, for giving me control of those drones the other day."

Right. That. Rhys has been trying to avoid thinking about the choice he made between Jack and Fiona. Unfortunately, the con artist won't let him. He thinks this is what's caused the onslaught of sudden aggressive tension between the two of them. But if Rhys thinks logically about the situation (which he wasn't at the time, he is now though) there was no real doubt who he would pick. It wasn't just because Jack is- _was_ \- his hero, it's because he was a programmer and nothing short of a genius. To organise the coup against Tassiter and rebuild Hyperion signifies Jack's inordinate intelligence. Perhaps the president didn't always put it to the best use, but he helped them out of the facility (alive, may Rhys add) and that's all that matters.

"It's okay. It was actually kinda fun," Rhys comments, causing Jack to grin. "Did you see that really short guy?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Jack exclaims. "He made this really funny noise like _blaaah_! That really cracked me up." His titters die out, as do Rhys' nervous chuckles. The company man watches the hologram expectantly. "Listen, I've been doing some thinking about the future."

Rhys balks, unable to hide the confusion on his countenance. What future can a hologram possibly have? Unless Jack expects to stay in his mind for the rest of his days. The thought of that makes Rhys almost vomit.

"We're two unstoppable, intelligent guys with great hair, eh?" Jack continues. "You and I are going places, baby!" All Rhys can physically do is blink. "Gimme a high five!" Jack raises his holographic hand, waiting. Hesitantly, Rhys leans forward to collide palms, only to find his goes straight through Jack's. A poorly planned effort.

"That was unsatisfying," Rhys remarks.

"Yeah. Did _not_ think of that." The hologram stands up, putting his hands in his hips to assert his point. "I know I've done some kind of-"He wavers his hand like a seesaw, "-Things in the past. But we're a team here, kiddo! I always look out for my team. So I'm just asking you to trust me here."

Trust is certainly something Rhys never thought Jack would want. Its common knowledge Jack was bolshy and manipulative. He didn't get things by forming _trust_ , he got them by swinging his iron fist. Handsome Jack didn't have time for something as frivolous as _trust_.

Pushing these thoughts aside, Rhys answers. "I mean... Yeah, I guess that could work." He tries to get his point across as noncommittally as possible. Of course he doesn't trust Jack at the moment but... he doesn't see why he couldn't grow to, especially if Jack continues to behave in this almost humane manner.

The effect on Jack is immediate. His face lights up. "My man!" he yells, causing Rhys to jump. "Sorry, got excited there. I'll never say that again. But- but that! That's what I like to hear, buddy! You've been good to me, Rhys. Gave me control of your well coiffed breadbox, trusted me when I opened up... I wanna repay the favour. How can I help _you_?" Jack gestures with his hands between their chests, insinuating they share some kind of bond. "What do you want out of life?"

Rhys muses, pursing his lips. This is a question he hasn't really given much consideration. Obviously he knows he wants to be at the top of the Hyperion ladder, his ambition to do so being the thing that drove him down to Pandora in the first place. But he isn't sure how to fulfil this goal. Unlike Jack, he isn't particularly fond of murdering people.

"I... want to get to the top of Hyperion," he says, feeling his stomach swirl at the admittance. It isn't something he tells people. It's humiliating, in the sense that every Hyperion employee wants to be at the top and follow in Jack's footsteps. It's a collective pipe dream that's completely unrealistic, hence why the company man doesn't care to tell it to people.

"Course you do, and I can help," Jack says, which is perhaps what surprises Rhys most. Surely he would've expected Jack to flip out, not wanting to be replaced as president. The fact he not only accepts Rhys' idea but goes along with it genially is disconcerting, but at the same time it makes his heart swell just a little bit. His hero, Handsome Jack, wants to believe he can be at the top. Handsome Jack is speaking to him as if he's an old friend, not a scummy employee too far beneath him to even acknowledge his existence. This is all Rhys has ever wanted, and now it's a reality it feels ever better than it does in his dreams.

"You need a plan, pumpkin. Something that'll give you solid footing up that Hyperion ladder. So, what're you gonna do?"

Rhys' face contorts in concentration in a manner that Jack finds... cute. It's on par with a kitten or a puppy. It isn't an expression a grown man should be making but... he finds it endearing nonetheless.

"Vasquez is taken care of, but it'll still be difficult," Rhys concedes, running a metal hand through his hair. "I guess the first thing I need to do is find the vault... right? Like you did?"

"Did you write my biography, kid?" Jack teases, which makes Rhys blush.

"Finding a vault can't be that difficult, can it? I mean, especially not when Gortys knows what she doing."

"No, no, sure. Finding it isn't going to be the problem, Rhysie. It's gonna be fighting the alien monster guarding it that's the problem."

"Uh... Right. Yeah. I-I forgot about that... minor detail." He tries not to trip over his own tongue, which is difficult when the dead CEO of Hyperion is bearing down on him.

Jack is like a predator. One sign of weakness and he will pounce.

"Kinda hard to forget when you've got some ugly son-of-a-bitch monster trying to choke you out with its tentacles but, sure, kid, I'll let you off since you've had a long day." Jack cocks his head. "I don't say this to everyone, Rhys, but I think you could do it. With my help, of course. No one else would take your pretty face seriously. The board would eat your skinny ass alive."

The only thing Rhys can garner from that is that Jack called him _pretty_.

"Well," Jack stretches. "It's been a long day. Get some shut eye, kid. Try not to let the vault hunters kill you in your sleep."

With one last smirk, Jack dematerialises and Rhys wonders whether their encounter was something his sleep-fatigued brain conjured.

Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his flesh hand, he opens the latch and goes back into the caravan where he is greeted with a gust of warmth. He's glad the sister's managed to get the heating and AC working again. No matter where you are on Pandora, the nights are always bitterly cold.

Rhys settles himself down in an unoccupied corner, curling in on himself. For a while, he watches the back of Timothy's head while he drives. He drifts off to sleep wondering what could possibly be lurking beneath his mask.


	3. Chapter 3

The following morning is painfully awkward. Fiona wakes up first and before she's even had chance to come around, she offers to take the driving shift from Tim. He knows she doesn't trust him- she probably thinks he's steering the caravan in the direction of the nearest cliff or something. Tim doesn't take it personally, he knows that you don't trust anyone on Pandora unless you can help it.

Tim's better judgement knows he shouldn't fall asleep around these people. He doesn't know them, doesn't trust them, and overall doesn't care for them- it would be suicide letting his guard down. But as his eyes wander over to Maya who is still asleep, he wonders if he should follow her example. It's been over twenty four hours since he last slept. Shutting his eyes for a few minutes wouldn't hurt.

Maya comes round soon after Tim has knocked out. He rests his back against the kitchen cabinets near the door, five feet away from where Rhys has hunkered down. Vaguely, Maya recalls hearing them talking quietly at one point in the night. Their words were indiscernible, though she can't imagine what they would have been discussing in the first place.

Sasha offers her a nutribar as soon as she wakes up, which she accepts gratefully. She can't remember the last time she ate properly. With all the chaos of the past few days it's been hard to remember. Not that she needs to eat a lot anyway, the eridium thrumming just beneath the surface of Pandora is enough to sate her hunger, meaning she can eat less than a normal human. 

"I recognise you now," Sasha says. "You're Maya the Saviour."

Maya grimaces. "Don't call me that."

Ever since Maya killed Jack and ended his reign of terror on Pandora, the people have taken to giving her the moniker of 'Saviour'. While Lilith wears the badge 'Firehawk' like war paint, Maya feels repulsed when she is referred to as anything other than her name. She thought she'd escaped from the worshipping when she left the Abbey. Apparently, it would follow her around for the rest of her days.

"Why are you ashamed?" Sasha cocks her head. "You have no idea what you did for us. We'll never be able to repay you."

Hearing declarations like this still puts Maya's teeth on edge, even after all these years. It's hard even accepting Sasha's sentiment.

"Just don't mention it," the Siren mumbles. Sasha realises it's a sore point, so she curtly nods and drops the subject.

Trapped in the caravan with no escape, Maya would appreciate not feeling the need to bolt.

People always expect more from her, the real Maya is never good enough; Lilith affectionately called her 'killer' but more often than not only summoned her to do her dirty work, Jack had always seen her as a Siren and something that would help him climb the corporate ladder, Athena saw her as a replacement sibling, Axton and the others just saw her as a leader. Nobody wanted the true her, there was always a motive, always something she could be doing to prove her worth.

'Maya the Saviour' only made this worse. People worshipped her, prayed to her; they would come to her with starving children and terminally ill elderly and expect her cure them through a miracle. She was a saviour, right? That's what they did.

When she told them there was no way she could help, they'd look at her like she was worse than Jack. That was the biggest injustice of all.

The familiar headache starts blooming between her eyes. Shallowing her breathing, Maya massages it away the best she can.

***

When Tim eventually stirs, the first thing he notices is that the caravan has stopped. Blinking a few times, he realises that he is the only one left inside. His heart is conditioned to start beating faster, the sense of danger creeping up on him. Is he about to walk into an ambush? Surely Maya wouldn't allow that. But if they overpowered her...

What if the Pandorans have found out his true identity? What if his ear widget short-circuited while he was asleep, exposing his face to them all. Fiddling in his ear, his fingertip brushes over the metal gadget. Still there. There's no way they could know.

So what the hell is going on?

Tim shoulders his rifle and cautiously opens the caravan door open. The blinding sun hits his pupils, sending him reeling back slightly. Judging by its position in the sky, it must be noon. What was meant to be a short nap turned into something much longer. Tim's stomach roils. The whole time he was asleep he was vulnerable. What has he missed?

At first, it's hard to see anything in the glaring sunlight and swirling sand. If he squints, he can just about make out a shape in the horizon. Not a human, a building. As he heads towards it, he wonders what kind of building would be in the middle of a desert. Not even bandits have taken territory of this land.

As he approaches, he hears voices carrying on the slight breeze. Rhys' voice is instantly recognisable, but his words indiscernible. Fiona says something back, even from here Tim can tell it sounds scathing.

The building they've congregated at is a derelict gas station, much to Tim's surprise. He didn't realise there was enough traffic in the badlands to call for such business. Part of the store has been buried underneath a sand drift, but the gas pumps themselves are miraculously unharmed.

"-I swear to god, Fiona, I've had it to about here with your attitude-"

"You do it then!" Fiona thrusts the pump into Rhys' skinny chest with enough force to just about topple him over. He grunts on the impact.

"You're so goddamn lazy. Sasha and I do everything for you, and you never even so much as say thanks! Do you know how many times we've saved your life? 'Cause I don't! We've done it way too much!"

"If you didn't get us in these situations I wouldn't need rescuing!" Rhys yells back, face slowly reddening. "It's you and your hare-brained schemes- the vault key being the icing on the cake!"

Fiona own visage is turning puce. "If you hadn't lied to us-!"

"Bullshit!"

"Hey," Tim steps forward, holding his hand up. Amazingly, they both fall silent. "Do you two bicker like this all the time? It's extremely irritating."

"She started-"

"I'm not asking," Tim says coldly. "Why didn't you pull the caravan closer if you were getting gas?"

"Wanted to scope it out first," grumbles Fiona. She pointedly doesn't look at either of the men, flicking her hair out of her eyes and looking unbothered. "There's nothing here."

"You bring the caravan closer and Rhys and I will handle the gas, seeing as you two can't even manage a simple task without arguing like kids."

Rhys swells up with indignation, yet stays silent.

"Ah, about that," Fiona begins. "Sasha thinks we need to change the tyre. Which is annoying, since Scooter only fixed it up for us the other day." She sighs and puts her hands on her hips. "It's in the trunk of the caravan, but I can't do it on my own. Felix always used to do it with me..." Her voice trails off.

Right. Felix. The guy who betrayed them. Or, at least this is what Tim has garnered from eavesdropping.

Tim turns to Rhys. "Do you know how to change a tyre?"

"Do I _look_ like I know how to change a tyre?" He snaps. "I can't even get gas."

"How the hell have you guys managed to stay alive so long?" Tim asks in astonishment. Sure, he had months of extensive training to become Jack's body double and in these sessions he was taught to fight and use a gun- but the rest he discovered for himself. On Pandora, people don't teach you things- you learn or you die.

"Fiona, get the tyre out. Rhys, look for a spout while I fill up this gas canister. You _do_ know what a spout is, right?"

"Yes," the man huffs. Crossing his arms across his chest, he goes off in search of one. He'll probably have to prise his way into the store, but it's nothing his metal arm can't handle.

Fiona doesn't leave immediately. She stares at Tim with raised eyebrows.

"Wow." She sounds impressed. "You handled him well. I've never seen him listen to someone like that."

Tim doesn't know why that statement leaves an uneasy feeling in his gut. He mumbles something unintelligible to Fiona before heading to the gas pump and filling up the discarded canister.

Tim isn't blind, he knows Rhys is attractive; with his auburn hair that is beginning to fall in curls, doe eyes which he has a bad habit of rolling at the slightest inconvenience, pretty lips which are almost constantly pulled in a pout. Sure, Rhys is cute. Pretty, even. He's built like a string-bean, but it somehow only adds to his appeal. Tim can admire someone attractive from a distance, he's been doing that his whole life. Even with Jack's face and persona, he never had the confidence to pick people up from bars or clubs- they always approached him first.

He doesn't need to make this into a big deal, he tells himself fiercely. Fiona's words were innocuous. Why is he even obsessing over something so futile?

"I think I found a spout," Rhys' voice causes Tim to jump and spill some fuel onto the ground. It soaks into the sand instantaneously. He holds up a black funnel, holding it between his thumb and forefinger like he's disgusted by it. Or scared.

Tim nods. "Good job. Bring it over here, Stretch."

The nickname hasn't gone amiss on Rhys. Despite himself, he feels his cheeks heat up. He hands the equipment over obediently, taking a step back and shuffling uneasily on his feet, awaiting his next instruction.

While Tim's back is turned, Rhys takes a minute to admire him. Broad shoulders, big hands and thick fingers, muscular arms threatening to burst out of his jacket sleeves. He's every bit a rugged mercenary. Rhys just wishes he could see what was underneath his mask. If his face is as aesthetically pleasing as the rest of him, Rhys can't understand why he hides himself.

For the first time, it strikes Rhys that they could be travelling with someone dangerous.

Like the Siren who killed Handsome Jack isn't bad enough, but this mysterious man who refuses to show his face is somehow even more scary. Even in the blistering heat, Rhys involuntarily shivers.

He tries to tell himself it isn't feasible- Tim seems like a nice guy. Gruff, yes, scary, definitely- but amicable enough overall. Somehow Rhys can't see him being some kind of war criminal. It wouldn't make sense.

That still doesn't answer any questions about who he really is.

Rhys trails behind Tim as he heads back over to the caravan, almost wishing that their time alone wasn't over yet. Although his mind had gone blank, Rhys could've thought of _something_ to say to engage him in conversation. With Fiona butting it, it'll be impossible.

Dutifully, Rhys listens and obeys when Tim shows him how to siphon the gas. The mercenary tells him it'll be good practise in case they're ever in another life-threatening situation, stranded in the badlands of Pandora. Rhys only grunts in response, unsure of what to say.

Usually, he is always one step ahead of the conversation; pulling the strings like a marionette, already knowing what his counterpart is going to say. It's a gift he was blessed with long before working for Hyperion. He's been manipulating people ever since he learned how to talk. Rhys is quick-witted, silver-tongued and slippery- no one catches him out.

Well, not usually. The past few days has been somewhat of an exception.

"Great," he sighs, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand when he's finished. "Now I know how to change the gas for all the cars that don't exist up on Helios."

"Did you know that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?"

Despite his prickly temper, Rhys taps his chin in mock thought. "I think I've heard that somewhere..."

Tim rolls his eyes, heading over to Fiona to assist her. Rhys isn't annoying him, per-say, but he's certainly had enough of his smart mouth for one afternoon.

Maya has somehow managed to slink away from all her duties. In the midst of the chaos, she took herself up onto the roof of the caravan for some peace. Loader Bot greeted her, sounding as cheerful as his robotic voice could muster. The Siren is still wary around the Hyperion robot, aware of how many she had to fight to get to Jack. However, it hasn't been programmed to shoot her on sight which is a victory, if not a small one.

As of late, Maya hasn't had the chance to meditate and align her spirits. The middle of the Pandoran waste isn't the optimal location for meditation and serenity, but she has done it in stranger places.

Maya resumes the familiar cross-legged position and closes her eyes, shallowing her breathing. Already, she can feel the bundles of tension in her body throbbing. She hasn't realised how knotted her energies have become lately, a result of exerting her powers without taking the time to realign them. In the distance, she can hear Rhys and Fiona arguing, but she's encased in such a zen bubble she barely even notices it. She quickly becomes lost in thought.

Maya hated the abbey.

It wasn't the place itself she despised, it was the people who inhabited it. They would put her high on a pedestal, broadcasting her to the people of Athenas as a revered figure; like a goddess. But once the comm turned off and the doors were closed, they would isolate her in her dormitory, letting her out only for meditation and mealtimes. But Maya didn't particularly mind. She's a solitary creature at heart, preferring her own company rather than being surrounded by others. It was easier to be alone, not worrying about who you could trust or other people's intentions. It was much safer that way.

The Brothers, as much as Maya despised them, did one thing right; and that was teaching her to channel her powers through meditation. It was something she did most days, when she wasn't preoccupied fighting bandits or hunting Vaults. Consequently, the Brothers teaching her to harness her powers was their ultimate downfall. Maya will never forget Sophis' horrified expression when she phaselocked him, right before putting a bullet between his eyes.

Down on the ground, Timothy is struggling to manoeuvre the tyre under Fiona's instruction. Sasha barks the occasional instruction at them, which makes her sister roll her eyes far back into her head. No matter how much the younger girl insists she can help, Fiona won't hear of it. Tim finds himself quietly respecting the con artist.

Rhys leans against the side of the caravan, face tilted up towards the white hot sun. When he left home to work for Hyperion, he missed the sun the most. Eden-6 had nine glorious months of sunshine a year, while the other three were cold and bitter winters; the weather ranging from typhoons to blizzards. He missed the feeling of rays on his pale skin, warming him from the inside out. He tried using one of the tanning beds on Helios but it wasn't the same.

Vaughn has retreated into the caravan, grumbling about sunstroke and migraines. His home planet, Tempestas, was soaked with rain for the majority of the year with little to no sunlight, apart from the occasional watery rays peaking out through misty clouds. Out of all of them, he's had the hardest time acclimatising to Pandora.

Fortunately, Rhys' idyllic serenity isn't shattered by Jack's presence. Ever since he found out the AI was nestled in his head, Rhys has constantly been on edge; unable to relax in the fear Jack will appear and do something horrendous. Rhys feels like they've reached a tentative understanding. He chose to trust Jack in the Atlas facility, which obviously meant the most to the dead CEO. In an absurd turn of events, he even outstretched his hand and offered to help Rhys take over Hyperion. The company man should never have mentioned it last night, but it had been such a weird day and he was so tired he didn't even register what he tumbling out of his mouth. 

As soon as the words had left Rhys' mouth, he'd regretted them instantaneously. He waited for Jack's eyes to harden, his lip to curl in a sneer as he attempted to strangle Rhys again. Nothing. In fact, Jack seemed delighted he'd suggested such a thing. Rhys is still trying to figure out his reasoning behind this. The most prolific thought is that because Jack is in his head, he thinks he can force Rhys to do his bidding. So far, Rhys has been putting up a good fight against Jack's impulses; like when Jack tries to get his metal arm to slap Sasha's ass or yank Vaughn's hair.

The reality of the situation hasn't quite sunk in yet. Yesterday already seems like such a distant memory. In his least lucid moments, Rhys wonders whether he dreamed Jack's rescue- that he didn't willingly allow the megalomanic psychopath into his subsystems.

He envisions Fiona and Sasha's reactions if he confided in them. The mere thought makes his stomach roil. No. This has to remain a secret that he'll take to the grave. If Hyperion found out, they'd probably try to lobotomise him. If the sisters found out, they'd kick him out of the caravan and leave him for the skags. If the vault hunters found out, they'd most likely decapitate him. 

Eventually, Tim and Fiona manage to replace the tyre. Both of them are soaked in sweat and covered in oil by the end, but they're ready to set off again. Sasha and Rhys pile inside, the latter declaring he will drive for a while. Clearly he feels some need to prove his masculinity since he couldn't change the tyre.

Fiona stands a few feet a way, her head tilted up to the sky in confusion. Tim looks up too, not being able to deny his curiosity. He finds the con artist watching Maya, who sits silently and motionless on top of the caravan. For a few seconds, Timothy watches too.

"What's she doing?" Fiona whispers, directing Timothy's attention away from her.

"At a guess; meditating," he replies. "Or she could be charging her Siren powers to kill us all in our sleep." Fiona looks horrified, her green eyes widening and jaw dropping slightly. " _Joke_ ," Tim iterates, with an eye roll. She titters nervously, taking a few tactful steps back.

He bangs his palm against the side of the caravan, causing her to jump at the harsh noise. Maya peers down with a scowl, clearly unhappy she's been interrupted.

"We're going," Tim tells her, to which she replies with a curt nod. She delicately unfolds her limbs, sliding down from the roof with surprising elegance. Fiona tries her best to act normally around her, but Sasha notices the wonderstruck expression on her sister's face every time the Siren talks. Despite the bad reputation vault hunters have, the Pandorans are grateful that this particular group put an end to Handsome Jack's tyranny. Pandora will never recover from his rule, but one day, the people might.

To pass the time, Sasha suggests they all play a game of cards. Vaughn perks up immediately at this suggestion, surging forward and declaring himself the card dealer. Maya joins, realising there is no point sitting and stewing in silence. Tim, on the other hand, is much harder to convince. He simply shakes his head, telling them he hasn't played in years and can't remember how to.

This was the wrong thing to say. Sasha begins a lengthy spiel, explaining the game and the property of each card. Maya wishes Tim hadn't bothered even giving an excuse.

In the end, he gives in. Settling down beside Maya on the edge of the seat, he watches Vaughn expertly shuffling the cards and dealing them out. Idly, he wonders if the money man ever had a stint in the Helios casino- a place Tim frequented often when he was under Jack's employ.

A shiver at the mere memory of those days wracks him. The temperature in the caravan seems to drop into the minuses, and Tim looks around worriedly in case anyone seems to be able to read his mind. Fortunately, they're all too focused on the game to even register his discomfort. With the mask attached to his face, it would be hard for them to detect it anyway. Sometimes he forgets it's plastered to his countenance for the rest of time.

With Jack no longer alive, there's no way Tim will ever get his old identity back. Jack always promised him that once the thirty years was up, they'd whisk him back onto the operating table and put right all the modifications. Technically, Tim isn't supposed to exist in Hyperion's eyes, so he can't go up there and demand they give him his old face back. Not that he would be able to set foot on the space station, not when he wears the face of the tyrant who was meant to have died over a year ago. Tim vowed he would never act as Jack again once he gained his freedom. He would rather die.

Truthfully, Tim always thought he would be the one to go first. Once he was fully trained up and moulded into the perfect Jack (or as close to perfect as possible, Jack was adamant the original could never be fully replicated) Tim was sent to do all his dirty work. The promotional videos that were sent across Helios depicting Jack blowing up bandit camps and awesome slow-mo action shots were, nine times out of ten, Tim's doing. He would obliterate Jack's enemies; through the airlock, with his hands wrapped around their throat or lined up against a wall with a bullet through their brain.

Although Tim was never brave enough to say it, Jack got soft in his old age. He relied so heavily on Tim that when the day came when he finally escaped, the results were catastrophic. None of the other doppelgängers had undergone the surgery, only relying on cloaking devices. Jack's most valued investment had gone rogue, leaving him scared for one of the first times in his life. 

Tim lived through assassination attempts, battles with the biggest and baddest enemies on Pandora, explosions- hell, even Jack himself- yet somehow he still managed to outlive him. A sick part of him feels like that, finally, he's managed to get one up on his old boss.

He manages to bring himself back into the real world, cutting his thread of thought just in time to lay his hand down and flush. Vaughn groans and Sasha brightly declares it a practise round to get warmed up. This elicits a small smile out of Tim. He's starting to warm up to Sasha.

Rhys too. But he's trying to eschew this particular thought.

***

For dinner, Sasha makes scrambled eggs and declares their food storages worryingly low. Fiona reassures her they'll look for food tomorrow, but stranded in the middle of the badlands, it's hard to imagine there will be ripe pickings.

Maya takes over Rhys' driving duties. The company man disappears up onto the roof for a while, reassuring Vaughn he just needs fresh air when his best friend questions his motives. The smaller man's face twists into a frown which quickly vanishes when he realises Tim is watching him.

At dusk, Maya calls Fiona up to the front of the caravan and speaks to her in a murmur. Tim can't help but strain his ears and try to eavesdrop. Looking around, he sees Sasha and Vaughn doing the exact same thing.

"Guys," Fiona comes down the steps. "Maya said she knows a safe house nearby, we're gonna stop there for the night. It's a damn sight better than being cramped up in here again. Hopefully there'll be some food there too."

Surprisingly, nobody is averse to the idea. Despite knowing her for forty-eight hours, they have put their faith in Maya. Whether this is because they deem her trustworthy, or simply because they know who she is and what she's capable of. She cut off the head of the Hyperion serpent, if a few more corporate lackeys come after them she should be able to protect them.

Sasha goes to get Rhys from the roof while Maya begins to change course. She reassures them it won't put them under time pressure, deeming it only a small diversion. Nobody argues. They're all too excited about the prospect of sleeping in proper beds.

It's nightfall by the time they arrive. The safe house is an adequately sized abandoned military bunker, resembling more of a shipping container. Judging by the motif splashed on the side of the wall, it once belonged to Atlas. When Tim questions Maya as to how she knew about this place, she tells him it's a universal vault hunter safe house. She came here with someone called Zer0 once.

Amazingly, the electricity in the building works. Rhys and Vaughn whoop excitedly, having been depraved of amenities like this for far too long. Fiona would never admit it, but she too feels relief bubbling inside her. When they first encountered Maya chasing them through Hollow Point she never imagined that the woman would prove to be so helpful to them. It's strange how the world works like that sometimes. But she's not complaining.

Sasha heads straight into the kitchen to see if can cook something more substantial. Judging by her raised voice, she's found something adequate. Maya shows the rest of them the sleeping quarters. There's only two, which works perfectly; one for the women and one for the men. There's two sets of bunkbeds in the female quarters, whereas only one bunkbed with a single bed in the male. Before Rhys can stake a claim on it, Vaughn launches himself onto the bed.

"Vaughn!" He whines. "What the hell?"

"Sorry," the money man shrugs, sounding anything but. "I hate bunkbeds, man. You know what I was like in college."

Rhys doesn't admit he'd forgotten this detail. He's too busy trying to reign his frustration in and come up with a bargaining chip, something that will prise Vaughn away from the bed. There's no way in hell that Rhys is sharing a bunkbed with Tim. It's too mortifying to even comprehend.

"I'll let you have my dinner if you give me the bed."

"No deal. Sorry."

Rhys clenches his fist and breathes through his teeth. If Vaughn realises he's frustrated, he does nothing to try and remedy it. He's too busy bicycling his legs in the air in delight.

Turning around, he sees Tim leaning against the doorway. His expression is indecipherable behind his mask, though Rhys imagines he will be less than happy about the arrangement too.

"Are you a top bunk or bottom bunk guy?"

"Bottom," Tim murmurs, grateful his mask is covering the redness of his cheeks. He dumps his bag down heavily on the bed, as if ceasing any further argument from Rhys. There's no way the company man would argue with Tim, not when the man could easily strangle him in his sleep.

Rhys pulls himself onto the top bed, ducking his head to avoid grazing it against the ceiling. When he lies down flat, he realises his feet stick out of the bottom of the bed awkwardly. Typical. His tall frame has never been anything but a hindrance to him. Apart from when people find him attractive because of it. He vividly remembers one girl in college saying to him, "Don't open your mouth anymore and ruin it. You're cute and tall." She'd taken him home that night, on the premise of his height. At first Rhys was baffled by it, now he uses it to his advantage.

He doesn't know how long he lays staring at the ceiling, his thoughts running away with him. He wonders what Tim is thinking. Whether he's feeling murderous yet. Hopefully his ire would be directed towards Vaughn. That would give Rhys some satisfaction.

The door opens, startling them both. Maya peeks her head round, hair falling in wet curls around her face. 

"The showers work," she informs them. "You might all want to freshen up before dinner."

Tim springs up first before Rhys can even sit himself upright. He hurries out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving them in echoing silence.

Rhys rolls over to glare at Vaughn, who's conveniently looking anywhere but in his direction.

"Nice one, man!" Rhys hisses. "Why would you do this to me? Do you know how weird this is?"

"I'm really sorry, Rhys." His expression almost makes Rhys believe him. Almost. "I get really sick when I sleep on the top bunk."

"We could've shared and let Timothy have the bed!"

"Huh. I guess I never thought of that." Rhys fights the urge to scream. "It's too late now. Besides, Tim didn't seem like he cared."

Of course he didn't. Who knows what the hell is going on behind that mask of his.

_Wouldn't you like to know._

Rhys jumps upon hearing Jack's voice, looking around wildly to see where he's materialised. Only, he hasn't. The room is empty safe for him and Vaughn.

_Cool, huh? While I was poking around in your noggin' I realised I could do this. Consider me your second voice of reason. Or your conscious- the cool one._

Rhys screws his eyes up trying to eradicate the voice in his head. It's bad enough Jack being able to pop up unexpectedly, having an internal monologue is somehow even worse.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Tim is trailing behind Maya as she heads back into the shower room.

"This is a really bad idea," he implores. "I don't want to share a bed with the kid!"

"You shared a life with Handsome Jack for five years," the Siren replies, dryly. "On the scale of things, this is nothing."

Ouch. A low blow.

"Maya," he groans. "C'mon. I don't trust those guys. They could be up to anything."

"I think you stand a pretty good chance of overpowering them." Maya turns her attention to the fogged mirror, where she begins brushing through her hair. "Though, have you seen Vaughn? He's weirdly buff for such a little guy."

"Maya, I'm serious."

"So am I! It's one night, Tim. You've been running from Hyperion for God knows how many years, but you won't bunker down with Rhys?"

"This... this is different," he says, trying to convince himself more than anything. "What happens if my mask malfunctions, huh? The two Hyperion desk jockeys wake up and see Handsome Jack sharing a room with them. What then? What happens when everyone in this goddamn building tries to kill me because they find out who I really am?"

Maya whirls around, her jaw set hard. "Then I kill them. We can find the vault on our own. I won't let anything happen to you, Tim."

At her words, he feels his anger slowly beginning to dissipate. He knows Maya didn't do it deliberately, she doesn't understand the implications like the rest of them do. Tim is frustrated with himself more than anything.

"Fine," he grumbles. " _One night_."

The Siren smiles. "Thank you. Now get a shower, you stink."

She saunters out of the room, leaving him stood glaring at his reflection in the fogged mirror.

***

After she showers, Fiona heads into the kitchen to see how Sasha is getting on with dinner.

She has Gortys perched on the small, round table, reading instructions from the cans- with the occasional, cheerful interjection. Sasha looks slightly flustered, not being used to cooking for so many people. Back home, it was just her and Fiona. They didn't live with Felix, Hell they didn't even know what he did with his free time; but if the past few days have proved anything, it's that they didn't really know him at all.

Fiona knows she should try and broach the topic with Sasha, to extend a caring sisterly arm, but she can't bring herself to do it. Not only is Fiona still having a difficult time processing it all, she knows Sasha has taken it even worse. Her younger sister does this when she's heartbroken; clamming up, becoming unresponsive and avoiding the cause of her upset. Fiona just wishes there was something she could do to appease her. She knows it's pointless dwelling on it. For now, there's nothing she can do. Sasha will open up when she's ready.

"Hey, Fi," her sister glances over her shoulder. "Dinner is almost ready, but I was hoping to talk to you alone for a minute."

Fiona tries to keep her expression impassive. "What's wrong?"

Sasha motions for her sister to close the kitchen door. "I... I guess I just don't trust the vault hunters." Her voice is so low that Fiona has to lean in to gleam what she's saying. "First Maya chases us through Hollow Point and looks like she's trying to kill us, then she tells us she's been following us because Felix told her to. She hasn't even told us how she knows Felix or what he said to her. Then she miraculously finds this safe house in the middle of nowhere." The younger sister shakes her head. "Don't even get me started on that guy Timothy. His mask is so _creepy_. I wonder why he wants to hide his face so badly."

"Sash," Fiona begins, resting a reassuring hand on her sister's shoulder. "I'm not happy about it either. Hell, I've even thought of all that myself; but we're just going to have to trust them. If she's here on Felix's word, Maya won't let any harm come to us. She would've done it as soon as she found out about Gortys."

"Felix didn't care about us," Sasha points out sharply. Her sister manages to hide her wince.

"Besides, we kinda need them." Fiona upturns her lips slightly, trying to coax Sasha to smile too. "They've found vaults before; we haven't. With their help, it should make things easier."

Sasha sighs, though doesn't look entirely convinced. "I guess. If you trust them then that's good enough for me. Now call everyone for dinner, will you?"

Within minutes, the kitchen is full of life- even Loader Bot has nestled in the corner to join in the occasion. Gortys whirls around their feet for a while, then goes to sit with Loader Bot when she grows tired. Fiona cannot help but smiling at the little robot; she's grown fond of her over the past couple of days, not even because she's leading them to a vault either. It's nice to have a bit of levity.

"You're actually not a horrible cook, Sasha," remarks Rhys, sounding surprised.

Sasha sniffs, trying to look unamused- but her cheeks are tinged with pink.

"This place is so remote, Maya," Vaughn begins, speaking directly to her for the first time in two days. Fiona wonders where this sudden confidence has come from. "How come you used it as a safe house?"

The Siren shrugs. "It acts as a halfway point." She doesn't elaborate as to _where_. This must be deliberate. "Plus, there's no Atlas soldiers around anymore to protect it, so it seemed perfect."

"You could live here if you needed to," Fiona says, craning her neck around. "It has really good facilities, considering how old it must be."

"I think it's maintained by the vault hunters who come here. Though, the last person to stay here must've been a lot cleaner than anyone I know."

"Do you have a network specially for vault hunters?" Vaughn's voice rises in excitement. "Do you have a group chat on the ECHOnet?"

Fiona expects Maya to shoot him down, but she actually smiles and nods.

"We do. Well, the ones I travelled with have a group chat. I can't speak for the rest of them. Finding a vault together makes you closer than a family, you know?"

"Did you help find the Vault of the Warrior, Timothy?" Fiona is surprised to see it's Sasha addressing him.

"Nah. I _was_ a vault hunter, then I was a merc." Maya is impressed by how smoothly the lies roll off his tongue. The Timothy she knew on Elpis would have been a stuttering mess at this confrontation. Obviously the years on Pandora have toughened him up more than just physically.

Maya doesn't want to think about the other alternative.

Sasha arches an eyebrow. "So how come you're back hunting a vault?"

Tim shrugs. "Because Maya is."

The Siren tries to hide her smirk.

Sasha pries no further, knowing when to accept defeat.

After dinner, they disperse into their respective quarters. They need to be awake early if they want to leave in good time, so they must take advantage of a bed and a good nights sleep while they can. None of them have to drive or keep guard of the caravan considering it's safely hidden in the garage, it should be the ideal time to get some rest.

In theory.

As Rhys lays staring at the ceiling, he's acutely aware of Tim's body heat beneath him.Which is ridiculous, because Rhys knows he can't feel it between the mattress, but he can imagine very vividly what it would be like. He's also tuned into every movement and noise Tim makes; every shuffle, every exhale of air, every sigh. He wonders if Vaughn is receptive to this too. Probably not. Nothing is concerning him in the corner on his own bed.

 _Prick_.

Rhys rolls over and faces the wall, his flesh arm crooked beneath the pillow. He isn't sure when he dozes off, but he does at some point.

***

_The mission was bad._

_Really bad._

_Tim is too scared to walk into Jack's office, still covered in blood (not his, mostly) and gunpowder. His heart is racing even worse than when the shuttle deployed him smack bang into the centre of the conflict._

_As his footsteps echo on the metal floor, it drowns out the piercing sounds of screams bouncing around in his head._

_He lets himself in without invitation. Jack is expecting him. He watched the whole debacle from the sanctity of his office, no doubt screaming at the holoscreen in frustration._

_Jack doesn't even turn around when he hears Tim's footsteps. He remains stood at the floor-length window, hands clasped behind his back and looking down on Pandora, as if lost in thought. This concerns Tim more than anything- he would rather be confronted with anger and raised fists. When Jack is pensive, that's when you should be scared._

_Tim stands awkwardly, unsure of whether to mount the stairs up to the podium where his desk is perched. It's Jack's inner sanctum, and Tim doesn't know if he deserves to invade it._

_"Have a seat, Timothy." Jack's voice is cold and distant. Tim's stomach roils. For a split second, he wonders whether it's worth his life sprinting out of the office and not looking back._

_Probably not. Jack would think of something as equally as gruesome and horrible to punish him._

_Swallowing roughly, Tim slowly lowers himself onto the seat opposite Jack's huge wing-backed chair._

_"No. My chair."_

_This is perhaps what concerns him the most._

_He's never been allowed to sit on Jack's chair. Only once when... He doesn't want to think about that right now. Not when his life could possibly be on the line. Every time he steps into Jack's office, he runs the risk of never walking back out again._

_Cautiously, he lowers himself onto the throne. Even if Jack's request is odd, defying him would lead to even worse consequences._

_Usually after a mission, if he's done well, Jack rewards Tim with a shower of praise; showing him the footage and cheering for him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. When Tim's performance is less than satisfactory, Jack will show him the footage and comb over it intently, correcting his technique and telling him how to improve next time. Even if Tim finds it mind-numbingly boring, he always listens to Jack's every word and does his upmost best to perform better._

_Today, however, everything hangs in limbo._

_Tim is too terrified to speak. Jack seems like he can't even bear to look at him._

_"What the hell happened today, Tim?" Jack finally turns around. His face is set hard; eyes narrow and lips disappearing into a thin line._

_"I-I'm sorry, Jack."_

_There was an ambush. Whether they were fed incorrect information, or there was a mole on Helios, the Hyperion strike team with Tim at the head had been met with heavy resistance from bandits. So heavy that out of all the soldiers and loader bots, Tim was one of the only survivors. Only because, doppelgänger or not, he is not allowed to die. Especially not on a live feed._

_"Do you know how many people watched you get shot?" Jack's voice is deadly soft. Tim doesn't reply. "Three million."_

_Bile rises up Tim's throat._

_"I'm sorry, Jack." He can't think of anything satisfactory to say. Nothing will ease Jack's anger. Silence will only rile him up more. Tim is cornered._

_"'Sorry' doesn't quite cut it this time, cupcake." The use of the nickname makes the doppelgänger want to heave. The only thing that stops him is knowing how furious Jack would be if he were to vomit all over his pristine floor._

_"I saw it all on the live feed. How you missed the grenade, how you reloaded out in the open, how you got shot right in the gut." Jack takes a few steps towards him. Instinctively, Tim cowers._

_The medics had healed Tim on the ship back to Helios. He almost wishes they'd left him to die._

_"What the hell is happening with you at the moment?" Tim inhales sharply, meeting Jack's eye. "First you fluff it on the battlefield, then all the other shit you've been doing behind my back."_

_It had started out as subtle defiances; not responding to Jack's emails, not listening to his dieticians and personal trainers, drinking after nine pm. Things that Tim could play off as accidental- he was just a dumb body double, he didn't know any different. Then it progressed. Tim would turn off his earpiece on the battlefield so he couldn't hear Jack barking instructions at him, he would choose the opposite weapons to what Jack suggested in the armoury, he would deliberately say something controversial in meetings with the Hyperion board. Tim knew it was worth more than his life to disregard Jack in such a manner, but it was the only way he could get his own back._

_It would inconvenience and irritate Jack to no end. The amount of satisfaction it would give Tim was worth the punishments that would follow. Being locked in isolation for a week without meals for three days, physical violence, waking up on an operating table with no recollection of how he got there- these were some of Jack's favourite amercements. The more Tim pushed, the harder Jack cracked down on him._

_Today, however, Jack seems to have reached his limit._

_The bitter irony of the situation is that Tim wasn't trying to be defiant; he was so focused on survival that he kept making rookie mistakes. Perhaps if three million people hadn't been watching the live feed, Jack wouldn't be so irate. Then again, maybe he would. Jack doesn't like being made a fool in any situation._

_"I've been doing some thinking, Tim." He claps his hands on the side of his chair, causing his doppelgänger to leap in surprise. "And I don't think you'll ever be perfect if you don't understand what I've been through."_

_Tim freezes, trying to decipher his cryptic words. "What?"_

_Jack chuckles lowly. The first warning sign. Tim's arm hair stands on end._

_Without warning, panels on the floor open up and Tim is cuffed to the chair. His ankles are bound, his wrists glued to the arms of the chair, something heavy and metal is clamped around his neck. He pulls at the restrictions, only to discover they don't give him any give at all._

_This is when the panic truly sets in._

_"Jack," Tim chokes. "Jack, I-I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again! I promise. I'll do more training, I'll go into the shooting range every single day, I-I- just please!" He knows Jack finds his begging pathetic, yet he can't help it._

_Jack sighs, as if this really pains him. He caresses the side of Tim's face._

_"You fill my head with empty promises every time, Timmy. I guess it's my fault for believing it. But this time, it's all going to change."_

_Tim feels his mask give, which is when he realises that Jack wasn't stroking his face at all- he was undoing the hinges. The doppelgänger's eyes are wide and terrified as he watches Jack place the mask on his desk, far too tenderly for what is about to happen._

_Jack disappears into one of the side rooms. In this time, Tim fervently glances around the room to see if there's any means of escape. He pulls on the restrictions a few more times but they don't budge. He's truly trapped, at Jack's mercy. He feels like he's going to pass out, or vomit, or die._

_Jack returns with a glowing set of tongs, red hot and sparking. Tim's eyes widen in horror, every cell in his body frozen. Only when Jack comes closer does Tim realise that he's not carrying tongs- it's a brand._

_Immediately, he recognises the symbol. It's the same one burnt on Jack's own countenance, the whole reason he now dons the ridiculous mask._

_"No!" Tim shouts, thrashing helplessly. "God, Jack. Please-please don't do this to me! I'll be so much better, I promise. I can make you proud, I know I can. I will."_

_I'll do anything if you let me go._

_His boss just clicks his tongue, looking at him piteously. "I've given you too many chances, Timmy. This is gonna hurt me more than you. You're my best investment, and now I have to ruin your beautiful face to teach you a lesson? You should've thought about the consequences before you started defying me."_

_"I-I didn't!" Tim gasps, cowering away as he gets closer. "I promise I didn't Jack." He's aware of the tears welling in his eyes. Usually, he's too proud to plead for mercy- too stubborn. But this? This goes beyond a punishment. This is mutilation. This is evil._

_Tim watches the brand inch closer towards his face, the heat radiates off of it in visible waves. He tries to scrunch his eyes shut which only aggravates Jack for some reason. He grabs Tim's jaw and digs his fingers in so hard that the doppelgänger has no choice but to watch the molten metal come closer to his face._

_The pain is apocalyptic. Tim's vision goes black as the excruciating heat sizzles through his skin; the acrid stench of burning flesh fills his senses as his consciousness swims before him. He grits his teeth so hard he feels a few of them crack, the tendons in his jaw are close to snapping. He doesn't want to give Jack the satisfaction of hearing him scream. That would be letting him know he's won. While there is still breath in Tim's body, Jack will never win._

_Jack presses the brand down for what feels like an eternity, when in reality it's only a few seconds. Tendrils of smoke curl up from the wound, this is when he know it's finished. He takes a step back to admire his handiwork, cocking a hand on his hap and tilting his head._

_The vault symbol now scorched onto Tim's face, ugly and inflamed. Rivulets of blood trickle down the side of his chiselled face. His eyes are unfocused and misty, like he is struggling to not pass out. Jack simply tuts, remorseful that it had to come down to this. Truthfully, he liked looking at Tim's unblemished face- it was one of the last reminders he had of what his face looked like before the incident. He was a handsome bastard, but nowadays he is very loathed to look in the mirror without the protection of his mask._

_Now Tim knows what it's like, hopefully he will start to buck up his ideas. While the doppelgänger will continue to think Jack marked him out of cruelty, his boss knows different; he'd been considering branding him for a while. Now he's shared the pain with him- shared the burden- maybe his doppelgänger will start to meet him halfway. It's too dangerous to set him free, not with how many Hyperion secrets he possesses (Jack's secrets, to be more specific) but Jack will never find another double like him. No. He wants to keep Tim under his thumb for as long as possible. Before the stupid bastard does something like killing himself on the battlefield._

_At some point while Jack was lost in reverie, Tim passes out from the agony. His body is slumped in the chair- still restrained- while his muscles twitch occasionally. The smell of molten flesh is becoming heady now, so Jack buzzes in for the medical team to take him away. If Doctor Baxter is surprised at the branding, he doesn't show it. He simply orders his team to swaddle Tim up and take him back to his quarters as discreetly as possible._

_When they are gone, Jack slumps down in his chair and reaches under his desk for a bottle of brandy. It's been one hell of a day._

***

Phantom pain rouses Tim in the middle of the night. He sits upright with a jolt, heart hammering uncomfortably hard in his chest. For a few seconds, he can faintly smell burning flesh, then it's gone.

Running a hand across his face, he's relieved to find his mask is still on. The ear widget malfunctioning had been his biggest fear. In a way, he's glad the mask is on, it means he can't run his fingers over his scar. He did this a lot the first few months after it had healed, incredulous that Jack would do such an awful thing to him. Though, it worked in Jack's favour; it meant Tim couldn't be flippant about not wearing it. His boss had called him out on it multiple times when he'd visit Tim's apartment and see him walking around barefaced.

Tim lays for a few minutes, aware of his t-shirt sticking to his torso with sweat. Though he can't remember it, it must've been one hell of a dream. The ones he doesn't remember are his favourite. He's haunted enough in the daytime, it can become quite overwhelming at night too.

Slowly, he eases himself out of bed, trying not to wake Rhys. Soft snores are coming from somewhere in the room, so he hopes he'll be able to slip out undetected. The last thing he needs is to be quizzed when he's feeling so volatile.

Truthfully, Tim is amazed he even managed to sleep at all. Even before he came to Pandora- and even before he worked before Jack- he could never sleep if there were other people around him, particularly strangers. His first few months at university were a nightmare, trying to share a dorm with a boy he didn't know and had no intention of knowing. The lack of sleep this past week must have caught up to him.

Just when he thinks he's managed it, he hears someone stirring in bed. Tim freezes, hand hovering above the doorknob. Now, he has two choices; he could bolt, which would undoubtedly raise suspicion, or he could make some excuse as to why he's creeping around in the dead of night. His fight or flight is in conflict, but by the time he's finished dithering, there's no time to run.

"Timothy?" Mumbles Rhys, knuckling his eyes. His hair flops in his face, Tim is terrified that he almost finds it _cute_. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just go back to bed."

This sharpens Rhys. "It doesn't _sound_ like nothing," he snaps. "Skulking around in the middle of the night, you could be up to anything."

"Well I'm _not_ ," Tim snaps back. "Don't worry your little head about it."

"I don't trust you," Rhys states, surprised at his own boldness. Tim's impassive mask makes it even worse, it's impossible to tell what he's feeling. "What're you doing; stealing Gortys and running off with the caravan? That's what you vault hunters do, right?"

 _Spoken like a true Hyperion company man_.

Tim scoffs, shutting the door behind him.

Rhys glances over at Vaughn, wondering if their altercation woke him up. No. He's still snoring gently. Rhys wishes he was as oblivious as his best friend.

He remains staring at the door for a few moments, then slumping back down into bed hopelessly. If he were braver, he'd go after Tim himself and stop him from whatever he's doing. What if he _is_ stealing Gortys and Rhys could've been the one to prevent it? The sisters would never forgive him.

He doesn't know if it's some elaborate plan including Maya. The Siren is pretty straightforward, if she was going to betray them Rhys would like to think she'd have shown signs by now. Then again, he has to remind himself he doesn't know either of them. And isn't it a coincidence they just happened to find them when they found Gortys?

Driven by fury, Rhys throws the covers back and slips down the ladder of the bed. His feet slap against the metal floor, Vaughn stirs and rolls over. Letting out a breath, Rhys heads to the door to try and find Tim. What if it's too late? What if he's already left them stranded in this bunker?

Rhys heads straight to the garage, only to find the caravan is still there. It throws him off at first. Where could he possibly be if he's not escaping?

The bathroom is empty, which leaves the kitchen. Rhys peeks his head around the doorframe and sees Tim sat at the table in the dark. Gortys is nowhere in sight, so the girls must have taken her to bed with them. Smart move.

Rhys doesn't want to do something as brash as turning the light on. Instead, he clears his throat from the doorway. Tim's head snaps up. Had it not been for the mask, he wouldn't be able to hide his surprise.

"What...what are you doing?" All the anger Rhys previously felt fizzles out like a wet firecracker in his chest. He finds himself almost pitying Tim; he looks a lot more vulnerable slumped over the table in the dark.

Tim sighs. "Does it matter?"

"I guess not. As long as you're not up to anything nefarious..." His voice trails off. He knows he should go back to bed and pretend none of this ever happened. So why does he feel drawn towards the vault hunter?

Ignoring his voice of reason, Rhys walks over to the cupboards and begins rooting through them. Tim watches with his head tilted, still on edge. He doesn't want to be the first one to speak. For some reason his pride won't stretch to that.

"Ah-ha!" Rhys exclaims, pulling something out of the cupboard. He turns around to look at Tim. "You like cocoa? It'll probably be crappy since it's Atlas stuff, but..."

Before Tim can bite down on his tongue, he says, "Sure."

There's silence while Rhys boils the kettle, leaning agains the side and crossing his arms over his skinny chest. Tim tries to look anywhere but in his direction. Damn it, he doesn't even _like_ cocoa. Or, at least he doesn't think he does. He hasn't had it since his university days. If Jack ever caught him drinking something like that, he'd be reprimanded for looking like a 'pansy'; even though Jack liked to drink honey tea when he couldn't sleep.

When Rhys puts the chipped mug down in front of him, Tim cannot help but jumping. He'd been so lost in thought he didn't even hear the kettle boil.

Rhys sits down opposite him with a sigh. "It's no Hyperion cocoa but it'll have to do." He looks up at Tim. "Have you ever had marshmallows and cream on cocoa?"

Of course he has, and Tim know exactly which drink Rhys is talking about too. He'd look at it longingly on the menu in the coffeeshop in the Hub Of Heroism before ordering a black coffee. But Rhys doesn't know this. He's under the impression Tim is a purebred Pandoran, who came out of the womb brandishing a Maliwan pistol. It's better for him to think this, yet that doesn't mean Tim doesn't sometimes wish he could be honest. He could ask Rhys whether he tried the BLTs from Barney's Sandwich Shop on Helios, he could ask if he ever went to Diana's Ice Cream Parlour. They could bond over it, hell, maybe even get a few laughs.

"No," grunts Tim. "I'm more of a coffee guy."

"Let me guess; you like your coffee black and bitter?"

_No, actually. I used to prefer peach ice tea in summer and cinnamon lattes in winter. I can still remember the coffeeshop on the university campus where I spent most of my free time._

"Something like that."

Rhys finally takes a sip of his drink and shudders, pulling a face. "I was right, it sucks. Still, I won't get Hyperion luxuries down here on Pandora." He seems pensive as he looks down into the murky brown liquid. "Did Fiona tell you how Vaughn and I ended up here?"

"A vault key deal that went wrong, right?"

"Yeah. We embezzled ten million dollars from Hyperion and-" He cuts himself off. "I can never go back. You wouldn't understand, and I get it- people on Pandora don't; but I actually liked Hyperion. It was the first place I ever felt like I belonged. I could play the game, I could be just as cutthroat as the rest of them. I was young but I made a good name for myself. I never wanted to leave."

His head snaps up. "I probably shouldn't have mentioned it. Whenever Sasha hears me, she looks like she wants to shoot me." He runs a metal hand through his hair. "I think she just wants to do that anyway, actually."

Tim bites his tongue. Despite everything, he does know what Rhys means. There was a part of him that didn't want to leave Hyperion too, but he saw what a tyrant Jack had become and knew there was no way he could continue living like him. Jack had taken everything from him but his soul. He knew what was right.

"I get that no one trusts Vaughn and I," continues Rhys. "I wouldn't expect them to. But... I'm not a bad guy. I don't think." His eyebrows knit together, like he doesn't quite believe his statement. "I've done bad things- everyone has- but I'm not bad. For all intents and purposes, I'm just like you guys now. Helios isn't my home anymore."

Tim's lip quirks ever so slightly. "Just like us guys?"

Rhys isn't sure whether he can detect a hint of amusement in his tone. "Well, obviously way less badass. Hey, do you know a guy called Zer0? He saved our lives from a death rally the other day. He was really cool."

Tim snorts, taking a sip of cocoa. While Rhys may think it tastes bad, it's better than anything he's had in years.

"Listen, Timothy," Rhys begins, swallowing roughly. "I... I didn't really think you were going to steal Gortys."

"Looks like you have some brains up there after all."

Despite everything, Rhys manages to crack a smile.

***

Fiona is the first to wake up the next morning, not having slept well. She's never been a heavy sleeper unlike her sister, who she often jokes could sleep through a nuclear detonation. At certain points in the night Fiona was sure Maya was awake, but she didn't want to clarify it. Sharing a room with her was terrifying enough. Fiona doubts the Siren would've appreciated midnight gossiping.

Quietly, Fiona gets dressed and heads into the kitchen. She's relieved to see none of the men are in there too. It'll be nice to have a few moments to herself- give herself time to collect her thoughts.

She frowns when she sees the kettle discarded on the side, not remembering leaving it out last night. Upon closer inspection, she notices the countertop is covered in fine, brown dust. Someone must've made themselves a drink in the middle of the night, though she can't imagine who out of all of them would drink _cocoa_.

Fiona makes herself coffee while she waits. Discovering the tin of powder was the highlight of her whole day yesterday. She hid it behind an empty box so no one else knew about it and could drink it before she got to it.

The sound of the door opening causes her to jump, having previously assumed she was the only one awake. Disappointment prickles her insides. When she turns around, she's surprised to see Maya slouched in the doorway; possessing much less grace than usual. Her blue hair falls in tight curls around her face, which is soft with sleep. She looks much more vulnerable like this, more easily hurt.

Maya is pretty, but if you stare too long her face is too sharp; harsh in certain lights. Fiona is surprised she is allowing herself to seem so soft.

"Coffee?" Offers Fiona. The Siren nods, knuckling her eyes and flopping down into a chair. Within minutes, a steaming mug is placed in front of her. Weakly, she smiles up in acknowledgement as Fiona takes her seat at the opposite side of the table, maintaining a respectful distance.

Maya takes a sip, then pulls a face. "Is there any milk?"

"'Fraid not. The fridge doesn't work and the milk is spoiled."

The Siren shudders, but takes another sip nonetheless. "I guess beggars can't be choosers."

They drink in silence for a while. Fiona is halfway through her mug when she works up the nerve to confront Maya.

"You still haven't told us how you know Felix."

Maya doesn't respond at first. Then she slowly lowers her mug. "Do you really think now is the best time to talk about it?"

"If not now; when?" Fiona shoots. "You don't seem to want to tell us for some reason. Did you even know Felix at all?"

"Do you think I would've gone to such lengths to find you if I didn't?" Maya rolls her eyes. "Trust me, if I didn't owe him this favour I wouldn't be wasting my time."

"But now you know there's a vault involved." Fiona's eyes are hard.

"If you feel like you can find it, open it, and kill the alien monster inside without my expertise, then please be my guest," replies Maya, coolly. "I've seen you in action, you can't even shoot a gun straight. If Sasha is your only hope, you'll be dead in seconds."

Fiona's lips press into a thin line. She doesn't say a word.

"I know you and Sasha don't trust me, that's evidently clear." Maya sends her a pointed glance. She must've heard them talking last night. "I'm not even asking you to trust me. Just... believe me when I say this is for you, not for me."

Fiona wants to protest. She opens her mouth to say something cutting. Then closes it so fast she bites her tongue. It's hard to ignore Maya's imploring expression. Butterflies flutter in Fiona's chest.

"Okay. I believe you."

A few moments later, Sasha trails in looking half-asleep. She picks up Fiona's mug, taking a long swig then choking when she realises the coffee is unsweetened. Fiona smirks, when she looks over she sees Maya is almost smiling too.

It's a start.

While they wait for the men to wake up, they shower and freshen up. Maya goes to wake the others up, after Sasha tells them they won't dare disobey her. She throws a bag of clothes into their room which she found in the footlocker at the end of her bed, instructing them they have ten minutes to meet them at the caravan or they're getting left behind. It has the desired effect.

"You're formidable," Sasha remarks, but she's giggling.

"It was either that or threatening to melt their brains," the Siren shrugs. "Even _I_ thought that was too much to wake them up with."


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Rhys does once they are back on the road is disappear onto the roof. If anyone finds it strange, they don't say anything. He's grateful he's been able to slip away. The tension has been building up all morning and only threatened to overflow once they were back rammed into the caravan. He's been trying to ignore the awkwardness between him and Tim, but it's hard when they're in such a close proximity. Rhys knows it's because of what happened last night, though he's not entirely sure _why_. He was just being friendly- or so he keeps telling himself. Deep down, there must be another reason he's ardently ignoring.

Tim is just furious he allowed Rhys to get too close.

The sound of the wind rushing past his ears is loud, but Rhys is glad for the distraction. His thoughts were becoming deafening trapped in there. Curling his legs to his chest, he rests his chin atop his knees and stares out into the distance. It passes by in a sandy blur, swallowing the distance between them and Gortys' energy chassis. And then...

And then. 

It doesn't take Jack long to appear. Perhaps Rhys subconsciously came up here knowing he wouldn't resist the opportunity to talk. Last night Jack was incredibly subdued. Rhys didn't even hear his voice in the back of his mind. It unsettled him. Jack was far too quiet. He was watching, calculating; waiting for the right time to pounce.

"Feels like I haven't seen you for a while, cupcake." Jack stretches exaggeratedly, like his pixelated limbs have the capacity to get cramped. "How you holding up?"

"I'm okay." Rhys feels like he means it. If it was obvious he was lying, Jack would undoubtedly call him out on it. "You didn't talk to me yesterday."

Jack smirks. He arches an eyebrow. "You missed me?"

"No!" Rhys protests crossly, painfully aware of the heat in his cheeks. "Just... you know, _observing_."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack rolls his eyes. "Y'know, a lot of employees have a crush on me. It's completely natural, sweetcheeks. I'm handsome, I'm rich, I'm a hero. I'm so perfect it's almost like someone created me in a story or something."

Rhys doesn't know how to respond, so he feels like it's best to keep his mouth shut.

"Your buddy Vaughn mentioned something about you having Handsome Jack posters in your office." Jack leans forward. Even though he's an AI, it's impossible to miss the mischievous glint in his eye. "Were you gonna tell me that yourself? No, 'course not. You've got a crush on me and you're super awkward. Well, lemme just say it's extremely flattering." He preens. "And understandable."

"Jack!" Rhys hisses. "Just... keep it down."

"Oh-ho! So you admit it!"

"No I didn't! I..." The company man emits a groan of frustration. "You're not gonna let this drop, are you?"

"Nope." Jack exaggerates the 'p'.

"Fine. _Fine_. I had a crush on you. Happy?"

Jack smirks. "You're only human, cupcake."

Rhys wishes he was a real person so he could throttle him.

"What about your little moment with Timmy last night? Don't look like that. I was watching it all with great interest. But... really, Rhys? _Timothy_?" He leans forward, closing the space between them considerably. Rhys ceases to breathe. "Why go for him when you can have the real deal?"

"Wh-what?"

"Ah, forget it. You don't understand. All I'm saying is; don't go chasing after him when you can score closer to home."

Rhys is just opening his mouth to question his cryptic words when he vanishes into thin air. The company man smacks the roof of the caravan in frustration, knowing Jack left him hanging deliberately. Do his feelings really mean so little to him? Almost definitely. Rhys is just his host. Like Jack said; nearly everyone in Hyperion had an infatuation with Jack. He commanded everyone's respect. It didn't matter what he did, everyone on Helios worshipped him.

He remembers watching a promotional video where Jack beheaded a bandit king; it was messy, it was gruesome, it was evil, but at the same time it was awe-inspiring. That night, Rhys had had to take matters into his own hands as he laid in bed dwelling on it. A small part of him felt sick for the curl of lust in his stomach, but he knew everyone else felt the same.

He runs a hand through his hair. He'd come to the roof for some serenity, only to have his mind even more jumbled. Rhys is almost certain Jack is nestled in the back of his head, laughing at him getting so worked up. Can he hear his every thought?

Just in case, Rhys thinks: _you're a dick_.

***

Fiona is driving. Sasha, Vaughn and Maya are playing some kind of board game (when Vaughn had unearthed it and asked Maya if she wanted to play, she'd shrugged her shoulders at Tim in an ' _if you can't beat them, join them_ ' manner) while Tim leans against the door. He quietly admires Maya's side profile. It's a familiar feeling. He remembers spending many a night on Elpis watching her sleep, agonising over her never wanting him the same way he desired her.

It's in the past now. But there are still times when Tim glances over and the wonted sensation tugs in his chest. In a way, it's a relief when he feels this; it's a sign that he hasn't become completely unrecognisable after the years under Jack's thumb.

One day, Tim will feel like himself again. Hopefully.

He tries not to think about the alternative.

Tim has to admit, the board game does look quite good fun. But he's committed to the tough guy act now, he can't show weakness.

Instead, he offers to take over driving from Fiona. She agrees quickly, standing up and practically throwing herself down onto the sofa, commandeering the board. Tim rolls his eyes behind his mask. Though, it's a relief to be driving. It gives him something to focus on. He's trying not to think about what Rhys is doing on the roof. Or, what Rhys is doing at all. The company man is bad news, Tim can sense it a mile off. Last night meant nothing. He felt nothing and is certain Rhys didn't either- he was just feeling meek after his apology. He felt like he owed it to Tim. That's the answer. No point mulling over it because that's all it meant.

Eventually, Rhys comes down from the roof. He bypasses the rest of the group, who are now intently embroiled in their game- even Maya- and walks straight over to Tim and Gortys.

"Hey guys," he feigns casualness. "How are we? Are we nearly there, Gortys?"

"Um, I don't really know, but we're definitely heading in the right direction!" She tells him, brightly. "I was just telling Timothy what a good driver he is. Way better than you Rhys. No offence!"

Rhys splutters. "Gortys! I thought we were cool."

"We are!" She protests, pixelated eyes widening. "I was just being honest."

"Robots don't lie, Rhys." If he didn't know any better, he'd think Tim found it _funny_.

"C'mon, Gortys," the company man wheedles. "I'm cooler than Timothy though, right?" He flashes his best cool guy pose, the one that helps him pick up girls on the bars in Helios. Tim stifles a laugh, grateful for the cover of his mask.

"I think you're really cool, Rhys. But Timothy is a _vault hunter_ ," the robot appeals. "Plus his mask is awesome! Really badass!"

"Don't swear," Tim says, automatically. Then he flinches. "Sorry, sorry." He wonders if some of Jack's conditioning will ever wear off.

"Am I more handsome than Timothy?"

The mercenary emits a bark-like laugh. "Stop setting yourself up, Stretch."

"You're really handsome, Rhys!" Chirps Gortys. "I've never seen Timothy's face so I guess you are more handsome!"

"Ha!" He crows. 

"Gortys," Tim's sounds hurt. "How could you? I thought we were tight."

Rhys is still smirking, glancing down to gauge Tim's reaction.

"Just so you know, I'm glaring at you," the vault hunter mutters.

Rhys laughs, but it doesn't sound smug and triumphant- it sounds genuine. Weirdly, it's... nice. Deep but airy at the same time. Tim concludes they haven't laughed enough in the past couple of days. If it's this easy to amuse Rhys then maybe he'll have to speak up more often. 

"It's obvious who her favourite is," Rhys shakes his head. "I feel betrayed. I practically gave birth to you. You're like my child."

"I like you a lot, Rhys, but please never say that again." Gortys imitates a shudder.

"Yeah. I'm with the robot on that."

The company man pokes Tim indignantly with his metal arm, causing him to scoff slightly. Some of the tension leaves Tim's shoulders. It may have been awkward this morning, but it's slowly starting to deteriorate between them. This is good. This is progress. This means that things are going back to normal- that _whatever_ he felt earlier is completely irrelevant.

_What did I say earlier, Rhysie?_

Rhys jerks back like he's been stung. He glances over his shoulder nervously. Tim tries to watch in his peripheral vision, though he cannot detect anything visibly obvious that would spook him. Which means it must be Tim.

"Sorry," the company man shakes his head, teeth gritted. "Just... heard something, that's all."

Tim nods like he doesn't believe him. Rhys wants to punch himself for being so stupid. The moment is ruined now. They were getting along so well...

 _Trust me, kid, you don't want to get too close to Timmy. Take it from someone who made that mistake_.

If he were alone, Rhys would tell Jack to shut up; but he's already garnered enough attention after talking to the AI, so he keeps his lips clamped tightly shut. Tim probably thinks he's weird enough without witnessing him talking to himself.

However, the moment is ruined by shouting in the back of the caravan. Rhys whips around in time to see Maya upheaving the board game.

"That's such bullshit!" She exclaims. "I totally won that round!"

Rhys glances over at Tim for explanation. He just shrugs.

 _Maybe I'm not the weirdest person here after all_ , Rhys thinks.

 _I wouldn't bank on it, cupcake_.

***

It's another long and excruciatingly boring day in the caravan. Maya and Rhys take it in turns to drive. Tim is grateful for the intervention. He's nursed a headache for the past two hours but was too proud to ask anyone else to take over.

Fiona is in charge of dinner. The difference in quality between her and Sasha's food is unmistakeable. She tries to concoct a meal with some kind of grains, but it resembles mush when on the plate. They try to be polite when they receive it, shuddering once they take the first bite. Vaughn says it's wonderful through gritted teeth, Tim chokes slightly and Rhys just pokes it listlessly with his fork, not even trying to preserve her feelings.

"Sorry it's not up to Hyperion standard," she snaps as she watches him.

"It's not even that," he shakes his head. "I don't understand how you can mess up _grains_."

Fiona flushes in anger. "Feel free to take over the cooking duties. Or any duties. All you've done is sit on your ass and complain about everything we've done for you. I _knew_ we should've left you!"

"I _complain_?" Rhys asks in disbelief. "Do you even hear yourself? _Hyperion are bad. We shouldn't trust them. We should've left them._ " Rhys pulls a face. "That was you by the way, if you couldn't tell."

Fiona draws herself to full height. "You little shit! How many times have we saved your life, and you haven't even thanked us! You'd be skag food if we hadn't taken pity on you!"

"And whose fault is that?" Rhys yells, feeling all his bottled anger reach a crescendo. His muscles are tight and ready to snap. "If you hadn't had that brilliant idea to sell a phoney vault key to _Hyperion_ of all people, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"It's not my fault you barged in the deal!" She bares her teeth. "If you'd have minded your own business up on Helios we would never have met you. And I wish to God we hadn't!"

"Do you think we want to be stuck here with you? I wish... I wish we'd handed you over to Vallory!"

Fiona and Sasha gasp in unison.

"Where would you be then, huh? If you feel like you can take over and do a better job than me then fine! I'd like to see you try!"

"I know I could do better-"

"Guys," Maya stands up, her voice cold. "Stop it. Now."

"He started it!"

"I don't care. Fighting each other isn't going to help. If you want to find this vault, we all have to work as a team. If you can't manage that, then we might as well turn around and forget about it."

Rhys throws Fiona a glare, only to see she is scowling at him from the corner of her eye.

If Maya were not here to mediate, Fiona would have him dangling out of the caravan door, begging for her forgiveness.

The atmosphere is reserved and tense afterwards. Fiona goes to sit beside Sasha at the wheel, Rhys and Vaughn sit at the table, their heads close together as they whisper, while Maya and Tim sit in the corner. They don't speak for a while. Tim stretches his legs out in front of him while Maya curls hers up to her chest. A quirk that she's never grown out of, apparently. She looks seventeen years old again, bunkered down in a safe house on Elpis while the moon crumbles beneath them.

"I should've known this would be a bad idea," she murmurs.

"Not your fault they hate each other." Tim shrugs. "You're doing your end of the deal. You didn't even have to considering that Felix guy is dead."

Maya frowns. "I never go back on my word."

 _Right. Of course_.

"I just hope we get to wherever we need to be soon. I don't want to keep playing babysitter."

"The sooner this is over, the better," he agrees.

Then he thinks; and then what? They find the vault and all go their separate ways? Tim resumes aimlessly wandering Pandora trying to evade Hyperion? Even if he did claim riches from the vault and could afford to leave the planet, he couldn't even if he wanted to; not when Hyperion closely monitor all the routes on and off Pandora.

What about Maya? What are her plans after this? Will she resume here, or will she find a new life for herself on a different planet? Tim remembers she told him she never had a real home, so there was nowhere for her to go after they finished on Elpis. She probably only came to Pandora because that's where Lilith and Roland were.

It's pointless trying to predict the future. They could all be dead by the end of the night. On Pandora, you can only live in the present and focus on survival. So that's what Tim will continue to do.

Gortys makes her way over to them, her pixelated eyes are downcast; she shows about as much emotion as a robot can muster. She rolls over to Maya's side. Instinctively, the Siren puts her arm around her. Tim raises his eyebrow, but doesn't utter a word. If he questioned Maya on playing mother hen he'd probably live to regret it.

"That fight was scary," the robot says sadly.

"It's okay." Maya pats her head. "It's over now."

"They don't like each other, do they?"

"They're just stressed. Sometimes when you're stressed you take it out on people."

"Oh. Humans are confusing."

"Tell me about it," mutters Maya. "You shouldn't do that, though. It's the wrong way to treat people."

"Consider this a life lesson, Gortys," Tim nods. He feels weird talking to the robot this way, but she's so _cute_.

"Okay. I like learning! What else can you tell me?"

"Uh... Don't eat Fiona's food?" Tim offers, earning him a nudge in the ribs from Maya.

"Treat people with kindness." Maya shoots Tim a pointed look. "And don't go off with any strangers, Gortys."

"I'm storing all of this in my software. Thanks guys. You're like parents!"

Tim and Maya choke simultaneously.

Gortys goes back to sit with Sasha on the dashboard. Before long, they begin falling asleep in various positions. Vaughn curls up on the sofa, Maya in her corner and Tim a few feet away from her. Rhys keeps glancing over, wondering if he's really asleep behind his mask. It's impossible to tell, so he tries not to ogle.

It takes him a while to drift off, every time Sasha drives over a bump it jolts him awake in a panic. His heart will skip a few beats, before he realises they're safe so he can sink back into the sofa again. He rests his head against Vaughn's, curling up to try and stop his legs dangling on the floor. The caravan is nowhere near big enough for all of them, so any way they can attempt to take up less space the better. 

When he does manage to fall asleep, he's plagued by dreams of Vasquez's blown-apart corpse and the piercing shrill of the alarms in the Atlas facility. He wakes up in a cold sweat, wishing he hadn't slept at all.

***

The next day, Maya takes Sasha hunting. They manage to procure some rakk eggs and skag meat. It's not brilliant, but they'll take it. Sasha promises she can make an adequate meal out of it; and considering Fiona's grains the night before, they're inclined to let her try.

They don't set off straightaway. With the caravan parked up, they take some time to stretch their legs and blow off some steam. Maya sets up some targets for Sasha and Fiona to shoot at, while Tim, Vaughn and Rhys play virtual chess on Vaughn's watch. Rhys beats them both, and Tim protests that he's cheating. The company man wears a smug, annoying look on his countenance that Tim would love more than anything to wipe off. The exact expression Jack would wear when he beat Tim too.

Loader Bot builds them a fire and they eat dinner outside. Sasha roasts the meat on a skewer and sets it on a bed of rice. Seeing as nothing has tried to kill them yet, they take the time to enjoy themselves for a while. The past few days have been terse; the tension amplified after Rhys and Fiona's argument. For now, they will enjoy the peace while it still lasts, because on Pandora it never does.

"So," Sasha says, once they've cleared their plates. "You guys must have tonnes of stories from your vault hunting days, right?"

Maya looks impassive. "It wasn't as exciting as you expect." _I don't want to talk about it. It'll only make the nightmares more real_.

"Come _on_!" The younger sister wheedles, widening her eyes. "Just one."

Maya knits her eyebrows together, lost in thought. She's trying to think of something insignificant that happened, but during the year they searched for the Vault of the Warrior so much happened that it's hard to pinpoint exact moments.

"One time in the Triton Flats, my friend Axton passed out and when we found him, he was surrounded by a gang of bullymongs. We had to fight off at least twenty."

She can still remember seeing his motionless body slumped at the bottom of the mountain, scarlet blood haemorrhaging into the snow and turning it a sickening shade of peony. He'd been shot, but Maya and Zer0 hadn't been there to help him. Axton had crawled some of the way, but pain and blood loss had made him faint in a heap on the ice. The scent of blood had attracted the bullymongs. Maya had always been cautious of the creatures, giving them a wide berth when possible; but in the moment, her fear was replaced by the frenzied urge to keep Axton alive. Somehow, her and Zer0 had managed to take out the whole herd, nothing but fur and the damp smell of musk remained. They'd managed to give Axton an Anshin just in time, but the gunshots had attracted a nearby group of bandits and they'd then had to fight their way through them.

Eventually, they managed to haul him to Hammerlock's residence where he was pumped full of animal tranquillisers and slung on the operating table still swimming in consciousness. Hammerlock stuffed a towel in his mouth and got to work with the scalpel, ignoring his muffled screams of agony.

This incident will forever be burned into Maya's mind. Because for a terrifying moment, she thought she'd lost him.

"And then the bandits came." Her lips curls into a smirk when she sees Sasha and Rhys' eyes widening in horror. "I have no idea how we managed it, but we all made it out alive. Even though I was half frozen and starving to death too."

"How come you were out in the Flats?" Inquires Fiona.

"It wasn't intentional. We were on a train and got... hijacked by Handsome Jack." Another image that will be forever ingrained. The chair turning around to reveal a Handsome Jack dummy strapped to dynamite. Seconds later the train exploded. Maya can't remember much of the incident after that. She remembers being shaken awake by a Claptrap unit, where she was reunited with the rest of her team. Perhaps the bump on the head was a blessing.

"I think I remember hearing about that," Fiona nods, slowly. "The Crimson Lance were involved, right?"

The Siren nods. "Yeah. It was a trap right from the beginning."

Silence falls over them, no one knows how to respond. Fiona thought the civilians of Pandora had been terrorised by Handsome Jack, but apparently it was nothing compared to what happened with the vault hunters. How Maya is alive today is nothing short of miraculous. They couldn't ask for better protection on this journey. However, she's still undecided about what to think about Timothy.

"What about you, Timothy?" Vaughn asks. He feels emboldened after beating him at virtual chess earlier.

"I'm no Siren," is all he responds, off-hand.

"You were a vault hunter too!"

Tim doesn't think they'd want to hear about how he witnessed Jack's descent into madness in the Vault of the Sentinel. Or how he was employed by Jack to find it in the first place. Maya significantly has missed this detail, so he will too. But it was so long ago, it's like a whisper of a memory. Fragmented scenes that he isn't sure were ever real.

"I got space hurps once," he shrugs.

"Yuck!" Sasha recoils, laughing loudly.

Rhys frowns to himself slightly. It seems like Tim isn't going to tell them about working for Jack; which is probably for the best, unless he wants the sisters to turn on him. He wonders what Maya did to invoke Jack's wrath on the train; he remembers the incident clearly, he hadn't been working for Hyperion for long and that was one of Jack's greatest propaganda triumphs. The video of the Crimson Lance general getting her head pulverised would play on a loop for hours on all the available holoscreens.

"Okay, let me think properly. I rescued a DAHL AI from an old warship and put her into a constructor bot."

Vaughn's jaw drops open. "How is that even possible without the proper Hyperion codes?"

Tim remains allusive. "She walked me through the process."

"She?" Rhys probes.

"Her name was Felicity."

Maya wasn't there when Tim and Athena activated Felicity, but she encountered the AI a few times. Of course she doesn't add this, but she knows exactly what Tim is thinking. They appear to have reached an unspoken agreement where they never breathe a word about their work on Elpis.

She's not ashamed, exactly. How was she, at seventeen, supposed to know what Jack would become? She was coerced into becoming a vault hunter by Wilhelm, with no real idea of what she was about to face. As the time passed, Jack showed his true colours and she knew she had to leave. When Lilith and Roland offered her the chance to escape, she took it without hesitation. She played a part in the betrayal, and Jack never forgave her. The only regret she has was not offering Tim the same chance. Luckily he managed to get away on his own.

Maybe one day she will explain her decision. Maybe she won't. Perhaps Tim doesn't want to hear it after all this time.

So far he hasn't asked. To ease her conscious, she feels like she has to offer some clarification.

Once it gets dark, they begin to disperse back into the caravan. Fiona and Maya are left to clean up the mess, ensuring they stamp out the fire and leave no trace. If Vallory and her cronies are following them, it would be enough evidence for them to be pointed in the right direction.

"You know," Fiona begins. "Sasha kinda worships you. She thinks you're a hero."

Maya winces. "She shouldn't."

The con artist stands up and straightens herself out. "You can't blame her. Whether you realise it or not, what you did for this planet..." Her voice trails off as she shakes her head. "You saved us. I don't know what would've happened if Jack had released the Warrior- if you hadn't stopped him."

"Stop," the Siren says coldly. The same prickly feeling crawls its way up her body. "I don't want to be worshipped, I don't want you to think I'm a hero. I saved my own skin, I don't deserve all this praise."

"Fine." There's a slight bite in Fiona's tone. "Think what you want. But as someone living on Pandora, who witnessed Jack's tyranny firsthand; you made our lives a hell of a lot better when you put a bullet in him." Without another word, she goes back into the caravan just as a breeze starts to creep around Maya.

She hurries back inside, ignoring the chill up her spine. Tim is sat at the wheel, the sisters have settled themselves on the sofa and the Hyperion men have occupied a corner, examining something on Vaughn's watch. Maya picks up her jacket off the coat hook and wraps it around herself tightly, sitting in her corner and fiddling with her ECHO.

For the past couple of weeks she's had little to no contact with the other vault hunters. She spoke briefly to Zer0 before he left for a mission, only to find out from Rhys that Zer0 was the one who saved them from Bossanova. Maya knows he's working for Moxxi, the bartender asked if she wanted to accompany him but she'd had to turn down the request, even though she realised how fun it would be to work with Zer0 again.

Axton has gone back to Sanctuary. Salvador is... well, he's a force of nature; wherever he may be, Maya is certain he'll be causing hell. And Gaige is nomadic these days, travelling across Pandora with the assistance of her robot.

It feels like everyone has found their purpose but Maya.

She wasn't sure what would happen after she defeated Jack. Would her life improve? Would the riches take away all her problems? She wouldn't go as far as to say it's caused more issues, but it certainly hasn't solved any.

Maya falls asleep curled up against the wall, her head lolling on her shoulder. Rhys watches from the corner of his eye, while Vaughn rests his head on his lap and dozes off too. Rhys and Tim are the only ones left awake yet again. If Rhys wasn't pinned down by his best friend, he might've had the courage to go up and sit with the faceless mercenary. Deep down, he's relieved he can't. Talking to Tim, while thrilling and exciting, is dangerous. Rhys knows absolutely nothing about him. It's better to keep him at arms length.

At some point in the night, the company man drifts off too. He's vaguely aware of Jack muttering in the back of his mind- he does this a lot, it's becoming almost soothing for Rhys, like having a second voice in his head- but what he's saying is indiscernible.

Only when the caravan brakes at a sudden stop do they all jerk awake, ready at a moment's notice for whatever they're about to face. Maya grabs her pistol and springs to her feet, wide-eyed and alert.

"Guys," Tim calls. "Get up. We're here."

***

The facility is still a few miles away, but it's visible on the horizon due to the fact it's lit up in the distance like a beacon. It emits a luminous blue light that lights the whole way there. The closer they get, the more discernible it becomes; it looks like a huge glass dome. All they can do is crowd around the driver's seat, looking on with slacked jaws.

Tim parks a few hundred meters away just in case. They all clamber out of the caravan, shivering in the night air but persevering nonetheless. Gortys informs them this is where her energy chassis is, which spurs them on even more. Rhys is so close to victory he can almost taste it. If they find Gortys' missing pieces and manage to open the vault, this whole ordeal will have been worthwhile. And with his newfound riches and Jack's help, he can begin the ascent up Hyperion. The thought fills him with adrenaline, his fingers trembling excitedly.

"Don't piss your pants, kid," Jack grumbles, materialising beside him and trudging along. "You still haven't found the damn piece yet."

"Gortys says it's here," he says. "We'll find it." Jack rolls his eyes, but Rhys doesn't catch it.

Once they get closer, they discover that the phosphorous glow is coming from the overhanging forest of exotic trees and fungus. Crystallised mushrooms twice the size of any human litter the pathway, neon trees that are icy to the touch tower above them and curl around the roof of the dome. Something tingles beneath their skin the further they walk into the facility. Where they are, however, remains a mystery.

Their path comes to a halt once they reach some broken down doors (they could've resembled doors in a past life) but now they look like twisted sheets of metal that are impossible to prise open.

"Do you know what this place is, Jack?" Rhys murmurs from the corner of his mouth, while the others are inspecting a blue shrub that smells headily of chemicals. Maya informed them the place was off the grid when she checked on her ECHO, but perhaps Jack might know. He knew everything that happened on Pandora when he was alive.

"No idea. Some kind of biodome? Seems kinda Atlas-sy if you ask me. This is the type of stuck-up crap they'd build."

"Atlas? Are you sure?" From what Rhys heard, almost every Atlas facility was destroyed. Except the small, insignificant ones like the bunker; but this isn't remotely small. More importantly; why is it off the map?

"Don't ask for my input and then ignore it, cupcake," Jack snaps. "Scan me around. I'll see what I can pick up."

Jack remains thoroughly unhelpful. He scans the plants around Rhys, which are of no use- and makes an abundance of dick jokes. Rhys tries to keep his temper at bay, knowing that if he starts arguing with Jack it'll attract attention. And how could he possibly explain this situation to them?

Rhys heads over to the doors, trying to glean the mechanics. He tries to open them by using a nearby lever, but something appears to be obstructing them. He's not strong enough to move the scrap metal alone, so he has to think quick.

"Hey, Timothy!" He calls over his shoulder. The faceless vault hunter whirls around, from where he'd been looking up at the glowing pink tree in fascination. "I need help moving this."

Tim joins him obediently. "Where do you want me, Stretch?"

"You take that side. When I say go, you start pulling and I'll push. Okay... _go_."

Even with the help of his metal arm, Rhys isn't the strongest person. He was never interested in sport or physical exertion in his youth, he was more interested in reading and studying mechanics. It's no surprise he'offers little help. Tim, despite all his muscles, doesn't seem to be able to move it either. He wipes a bead of sweat off his mask and ends up dropping the metal door, accepting defeat.

"Kinda weak for a vault hunter," Rhys raises his eyebrow in surprise.

"Maybe if you weren't such a streak of piss," he grumbles.

The company man ends up asking Loader Bot to help, ignoring the fact he walked in on him and Gortys talking about him (apparently Gortys doesn't think his tie is fashionable and Loader Bot agreed, the traitor.) Between them, Rhys, Tim and LB manage to move the blockade, though they almost break their backs in the process. Rhys tries to show no signs of weakness, but he's aware his face is scarlet red.

"It's open!" He calls to the others. It takes seconds for them to flock around, staring at the doorway in trepidation. Nobody wants to be the one to take the first step. Now they are actually inside the facility, anything could happen. Although the entrance was filled with pretty fauna, anything could be lurking in the depths.

Tim is the first to go through. When nothing happens to him, the others quickly follow suit. In here, the ceiling of dome is obscured by vines and the canopy of trees, leaving them in darkness. Only the glow from the plants lights their way. They have now entered some kind of jungle, that looks a lot more natural than what was growing in the entrance. The air smells damp and sits heavy on their lungs like a wet cloth. It's hard to get a good lungful of air in the soupy atmosphere. Jack was right, it looks like a terraforming facility.

"Look," Maya points her finger into the distance. The roof of a smaller dome peaks out between the treetops. "We should head there."

The others are happy to oblige, it seems a good a place as any to begin their search. Gortys still can't pinpoint the exact location of her energy chassis, but she's adamant she will once they get within a certain radius. They can do nothing else but trust her. So she wheels ahead at Tim's heels, the detector on her head flashing constantly. Maya keeps close, hand on the butt of her gun at all times.

It seems like an age by the time they reach the tower. When they arrive, Rhys is surprised to see an Atlas emblem splashed on the side. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he tries to wonder what Atlas would want with this kind of facility.

"See?" Jack's voice is right in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "I'm always right."

Maya goes first, kicking open the door and scoping out the entrance for threats. The place appears empty, so her and Tim ascend the winding, spiral staircase first, just in case that something is waiting for them when they reach the top.

Rhys lags behind, his mind wandering. So far, things have been going a little too smoothly for his liking. Ever since him and Vaughn stepped foot on Pandora they've been plagued with problems, which only amplified once they met the sisters. Their last encounter with trouble was three days ago, far too long for Pandora. They've been able to enter the Atlas facility far too easily. The main cause of concern is that no one has tried to stop them. It could simply be because Atlas has been derelict for over a decade now- there's no reason for anyone to inhabit it- but Rhys can't bring himself to believe it. A place like this wouldn't be abandoned for no reason (if it even _is_.) Dread settles heavily in his stomach. He can feel trouble arising.

Maya pushes open the door, gun cocked and her finger resting on the trigger. The room is empty. The others pour in, treading cautiously. Vaughn uses Rhys' tall frame to shield him as he peeks around his best friend's back, like he doesn't believe Maya's assessment.

"Woah." Sasha's eyes are wide as she stands in the centre of the room, looking around. It appears to be some kind of observation station, judging by the amount of monitors and holoscreens around the room. The dome is made of glass, allowing them a better look at the facility. It seems to stretch on indefinitely, the whole place an untamed jungle. The first thought that comes into Fiona's mind is; _how are we going to find Gortys' upgrade amongst all this_?

"My upgrade is definitely nearby," the little robot informs them. "Sorry if the place is a little spooky."

Maya frowns as she looks around, craning her neck to get a better look. There are clothes strewn on one of the control panels, papers and maps cover the desk on the platform; it looks like the place has been stuck in limbo ever since its last inhabitant lived here. She can't describe why it feels like they've just stepped into somewhere that's frozen in time.

"Just once I'd like to search an abandoned health spa or something," mutters Sasha. "With fluffy towels."

"Gortys, when you said 'nearby', did you mean, like, in-this room-nearby?" Questions Fiona, turning to the robot.

"I mean, it's definitely _close_. But there's not a homing beacon on it."

Fiona represses a sigh. She joins the others in looking around. Rhys is fiddling with one of the computers, apparently already having hacked into the system, while Sasha looks around in the crates and boxes. Vaughn settles himself down at the table and helps himself to the fruit that's been left in a bowl. Fiona glances down, and much to her confusion she realises the fruit is _fresh_. 

Maya is in the kitchenette, fiddling with the coffee machine. She hits it hard, the impact of metal rings out loudly and causes everyone to jump.

"Sorry," she says, gruffly. "Just trying to get the damn thing to work. I haven't had coffee with milk for _days_."

The Siren has been deep in thought ever since they arrived. How could such an enormous Atlas biodome be completely abandoned? She knows Athena waged a one-woman war against Atlas and managed to not only kill every employee, but also destroy every facility. All except one. Did she know about it, nestled in the middle of nowhere? Was she unable to find it? Surely someone else would've commandeered it; Hyperion, for example. Maya finds it hard to believe this place has remained a secret for so long- it's not exactly hard to miss. Or even bandits would gut the place out. The place is too creepy to even comprehend. For the first time since arriving, Maya feels a twinge of fear.

"I found a map," Fiona calls.

"A map? What type of map?" Asks Rhys.

"I don't know. The markings are deliberately obscure. Tim, wanna take a look?" She hands it over to him. The faceless mercenary seems like a man of the world, he might be able to make more sense out of it than her.

"Oh how fun! Like a treasure hunt map!" Exclaims Gortys.

"Yeah..." Tim says slowly. "Something like that. But it doesn't appear to lead to anything, so I doubt it has anything to do with your upgrades."

While Maya starts fiddling with the quick change station, Fiona heads over to Sasha.

"Any luck?"

"No. But Rhys found out where we are."

"Or at least what this place was," the company man intervenes. "Some kind of top secret Atlas biodome."

"We guesses that," Tim says, tightly. "What about Gortys' upgrade?"

"Nothing in the files yet, but a lot of its been deleted. So that probably says something. I'll keep looking," Rhys says, demurely.

"Does anyone else think someone has been living here recently?" Maya speaks up suddenly. "The clothes, the fruit."

"Don't worry so much. Maybe he'll be nice. Or she. Could always be a she," supplies Gortys.

Fiona walks over to Gortys, who retracts into her ball form with a quiet, "Oops." Her heart races slightly as she peers behind the stack of crates where Gortys has been flittering around. She almost jumps out of her skin when she sees a shadow emerging and standing upright. In a flash, she projects her gun out of her sleeve and aims it at the stranger.

"Don't kill me!" He gasps, holding his hands up in surrender. "Please, please, don't kill. I have just been watching you! Just- just watching that's all. I am completely harmless."

"If you're not here to hurt us, we're not here to hurt you," Fiona assures him, pushing the gun back onto its spring. Maya pushes forward, hand gripped tightly around her gun. Tim stands on the other side of Fiona, forming a phalanx. Rhys keeps himself in the shadows as much as possible, he's aware of Jack looking on in interest. 

"Thank you for that," the stranger says. "It's genuinely rare to encounter reasonable, somewhat intelligent-seeming people."

Fiona points to Gortys, who has only now just emerged from her shell. "This little robot's why we're here. There's an upgrade nearby. We're looking for it."

"Well I-I can't help you with that. I know nothing about it. So you should leave. We all should leave. All of us, going our separate ways. I can leave right now, in fact. And if anyone asks- not that anyone would- I'll tell them I didn't see you."

"Bullshit," Maya says coldly, glowering into his pale eyes. The man recoils. "What are you hiding?"

"Very well... I'm on the run, you see. I have lost everything. My wife, my son, my cat. I did not lose them in that order, though. I lost my wife first, then my cat, then my son. So; wife, cat son."

"Have you ever thought about becoming a professional story teller?" Rhys asks. "Because I gotta tell you, your sense for crucial information is just-"

"Rhys." Sasha cuts him off sharply.

"Forgive me," the man sighs. "It's been a long time since I've enjoyed human contact. Perhaps I've forgotten how to talk to people."

"You're telling me," mutters Tim, earning him a nudge from Maya.

"You must understand, I've suffered months of wandering, isolation. Skulking from one location to the next. Broken. Ashamed. Homeless. I got here, to this place, only minutes ago. So... I'd ask that you leave me now, to my demons and go." He bows his head.

"You are creepy as hell and obviously lying," snarls Maya.

"I saw your map, which I assume you made while exploring this facility," supplies Fiona.

The man stiffens for an infinitesimal second, before resuming his stance. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"No? So you won't mind if I...?" The con artists holds up the map and slowly begins to rip it.

"No!" The man shouts, lunging forward. "Don't do that!" Maya jumps forward, pointing her gun at him. "To that, uh, map, is it? That I've never seen before. Just fond of paper."

"You seem like an intelligent man. You've probably figured out by now that the easiest way to end all this and get rid of us, is simply tell the truth," Tim says.

"Proposal accepted. I'll tell you what you want to know. Follow me."

He beckons them with a wave of his hand. They follow him up the steps onto the platform where his desk sits, and he points out of the glass dome to a lit-up, needle-like tower.

"The bunker within that jungle- I suspect it contains the upgrade you're looking for. I wish I could tell you more what's inside, but I was never braved enough to check. The problem- your problem- is the Atlas Automated Security System that surrounds said bunker."

Fiona rolls her eyes. "Isn't it always?"

"If I were you- and in this instance I'm relieved I am not- I'd gain access to the security tower, which is there." This time, he points to a large, square building that looks like a block. It too is lit up, though this one without spotlights and various other security measures.

Rhys steps forward. "I can get in and disable the security systems. Easy."

"Not easy," the man shakes his head. "Not at all easy. But your best option, nonetheless."

"What kind of defences are there?" Questions Tim.

"Turrets, alarms, death lasers. It will be almost impossible to get past them if your friend here is unable to hack them."

"I can easily hack into it!" Rhys protests, voice rising. "You wanna know how easy it is? I look at it and it hacks!"

"Because overconfidence has never gotten you into trouble before," shoots Fiona.

"So we're done talking then?" Maya says. "We can actually go secure this upgrade now? Fiona, while Rhys hits the security tower and hacks the defences, you, Sasha and I will get into the bunker and grab the upgrade. Tim, you go with Rhys. He needs all the protection he can get."

Rhys manages to bite down on his tongue, too terrified to argue with the Siren. 

"Oh. I-is that a good idea?" Fiona seems flustered.

"Yeah. Consider this your first lesson."

"Wh-what about me?" Interjects Vaughn, looking crestfallen. "Where do I fit into this? I know I don't have a cybernetic eye and I'm not a Siren but I can still help out. I'm not useless."

"Vaughn, you stay here and keep an eye on this guy," Maya jerks her finger in the stranger's direction. "And keep an eye on Gortys. We don't want him slipping away with her."

"Right," Vaughn rocks on his heels. "Totally. I-I can definitely do that. Thanks... thanks for the invite anyway guys." His spiel is cut short when the door closes behind them.

They step onto the elevator that will lead them back down to the ground floor of the facility. Sasha presses the button and it shudders into life.

"If you need us, contact me on my ECHO," Maya speaks directly to Rhys. "We probably won't be able to help, but, you know. Tim'll keep you alive. Right, Tim?"

Tim shrugs. "If I feel like it."

"Thanks for filling me with confidence," Rhys grumbles, his heart already racing. He knows he's in capable hands with Tim, and if the mercenary was so inclined he would've killed him already. This is perhaps what scares Rhys the most.

The lift jolts to a halt once it hits the level Rhys and Tim needs to be on.

"Good luck everyone," Maya nods. "Try not to die out there." She smacks the elevator button again and within seconds, they are gone.

Rhys turns to Tim, feeling flustered. Tim claps him on his metal arm. The company man doesn't know whether this is meant to reassure him.

"Let's go, Stretch."


End file.
